Li 


C^ 


V 


n/ 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF. CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 

MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


SSEilliam  €♦  (^riffis,  £).  ^. 


THE  LILY  AMONG  THORNS.  A  Study  of  the  Biblical 
Drama  entitled  The  Song  of  Songs.  i6mo,  $1.25  ;  white 
cloth,  gilt  top,  5i-So. 

BRAVE  LITTLE  HOLLAND,  AND  WHAT  SHE  TAUGHT 
US.  Illustrated.  i6mo,  $1.25.  In  Riverside  Library  for 
Young  People.  Small  i6mo,  75  cents.  In  Riverside  School 
Library.     Half  leather,  i6mo,  60  cents,  net. 

THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND.  Sentimental  Rambles 
in  the  Eleven  Provinces  of  the  Netherlands.  With  a  map 
and  illustrations.     Crown  8vo,  $1.50. 

THE  PILGRIMS  IN  THEIR  THREE  HOMES,  — ENG- 
LAND, HOLLAND,  AND  AMERICA.  Illustrated.  i6mo, 
$1.25.  In  Riverside  Library  for  Young  People.  Small 
i6mo,  75  cents. 

MATTHEW  CALBRAITH  PERRY.  A  typical  American 
Naval  Officer.     Illustrated.     Crown  8vo,  gilt  top,  j52,oo. 

JAPAN:  IN  HISTORY,  FOLK-LORE,  AND  ART.  In  Riv- 
erside Library  for  Young  People.     Small  i6mo,  75  cents. 

TOWN  SEND  HARRIS,  First  American  Envoy  in  Japan. 
With  portrait.     Crown  8vo,  $2.00. 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  &  CO. 
Boston  and  New  York. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/americaninhollanOOgrifrich 


X 

S  '^ 
^  I 
of 

'A 

O 

H 
«< 
Pi 

O 

<! 


THE  AMERICAN  IN 
HOLLAND 

SENTIMENTAL   RAMBLES   IN   THE 

ELEVEN   PROVINCES   OF 

THE  NETHERLANDS 

BY 

WILLIAM  ELLIOT  GRIFFIS,  L.H.D. 

MBMBEB  OF  THE  NXTHEBLAKDISH  SOCIETY  OF  LBTTEB3  IN  LEYDEN 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 


^nG-^-^ 


^^ 


COPYRIGHT,   1899,  BY  WILLIAM  ELLIOT  GRIFFIS 
ALL   RIGHTS   RESERVED 


3^11  a^cmoriam 


KATHARINE  LYRA 

^  DECEMBER  9,  1898 
ZENITH  STAR  IN  THE  HEAVEN  OF  MEMORY 


^  ^'^i 
♦><?' 


iV* 


G-rs- 


PKEFACE 

This  book  has  been  written  by  one  who  can 
boast  no  Dutch  blood  or  ancestry.  It  contains  the 
impressions,  observations,  studies,  and  sentiments 
of  an  American,  who  has  learned  to  love  the  Dutch 
country  and  people  for  their  solid  worth. 

In  five  journeys  I  have  seen  the  Dutchman's 
home-land.  I  have  rambled  not  hastily  but  lei- 
surely, not  in  one  or  two,  but  in  all  the  provinces 
of  the  Netherlands.  The  majority  of  Americans, 
like  most  British  folk,  visit  only  the  two  Hollands, 
North  and  South,  and  then  see  but  a  narrow  line 
of  landscape  from  the  car  windows.  For  the  aver- 
age tourist,  the  elect  route  is  from  Eotterdam  to 
Amsterdam.  Yet  I  confess  to  delightful  days  in 
such  far-off  places  as  Dokkum  and  Finsterwolde, 
Doesburg  and  Goes,  and  in  such  mysterious  lands 
as  Drenthe  and  Limburg.  My  hope  is  that  my 
fellow  countrymen  will  discover  that  in  Queen 
Wilhelmina's  realm  there  are  nine  other  provinces, 
besides  the  two  Hollands;  yes  even  a  North,  a 
South,  and  an  East  as  well  as  a  narrow  strip,  be- 
tween the  two  Dams,  of  cities  near  the  sea. 

In   giving   my   impressions   and   expressing   my 


M313328 


vi  PREFACE 

sentiments,  I  may  be  accused  of  frivolity,  but  my 
aim  has  been  to  refresh  the  reader,  break  the 
strain  of  plain  prose,  and  reveal  the  poetry  under- 
lying the  Dutch  epic  of  toil  and  triumph. 

My  first  visit  to  the  Netherlands,  when  I  crossed 
the  country  from  east  to  west  on  inland  waters, 
and  tarried  for  a  night  in  Rotterdam,  was  in  1869. 
My  subsequent  visits  were  in  1891,  1892,  1895,  and 
1898.  Unsought  and  unexpected  was  election,  in 
1896,  to  membership  in  the  Netherlandish  Society 
of  Letters  at  Leyden;  and,  from  the  Netherland 
Circle  of  Journalists,  in  1898,  the  invitation,  as  a 
private  individual,  to  witness  the  enthronization. 
I  was  further  honored  in  being  sent  by  the  Ameri- 
can Historical  Association,  as  its  delegate,  to  the 
International  Congress  of  Diplomatic  History  at 
the  Hague,  and  by  "  The  Outlook  "  and  "  The  Na- 
tion "  as  their  representative  at  the  inauguration  of 
Queen  Wilhelmina. 

I  sincerely  trust  that  by  this  work  I  may  inter- 
est Americans  to  become  more  familiar  with  Dutch 
history  and  the  country  itself,  outside  of  the  two 
Hollands,  fascinating  as  are  these  maritime  pro- 
vinces. 

W.  E.  G. 

Ithaca,  N.  Y.,  October  4, 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTEB  FAOB 

HOLLAND  IN  1869. 

L  Down  the  Rhine  into  Holland     ...  8 

NORTH  HOLLAND. 

11.   In  Holland  with  a  Japanese    ...  13 

III.  Amsterdam  as  Brain  Stimulant     ...  22 

IV.  The  Floral  Capital  of  Europe          .        .  30 
V.  A  Sentimental  Trip  to  Bloemendaal  .        .  40 

VI.  In  the  Egmont  Country       ....  49 

VIL  Charming  Little  Zaanduk      ....  58 

FRIESLAND. 

Vin.  The  Lion  City  of  the  North      ...  71 
IX.  Quaint  Hindeloopen  .        .        .        .        .        .78 

X.  Franeker,  Sneek,  and  American  Precedents  85 

XI.    DOKKUM  AND   OUR   PaGAN   FoRBEARS       .           .  93 

GRONINGEN. 

XII.  Qroningen  :  Province  and  City      .        .        .  107 

XIII.  Stories  told  by  Relics  and  Arms     .        .  113 

DRENTHE. 

XrV.  Drenthe  Heaths  and  Giants'  Graves  .        .  125 

XV.  The  Turf-Yard  of  the  Kingdom       .        .  134 

XVI.  Alone  to  Coevorden 143 

OVER-IJSSEL. 

XVII.  OvER-IjssEL :  Steenwijk  And  Kampen        .  155 

XVni.  ZwoLLE  AND  Thomas  A  Kbmpis        .        .        .  163 

XIX.  The  Glories  of  Deventer  ....  168 


viii  CONTENTS 

GELDERLAND. 

XX.  Glorious  Arnhem 181 

XXI.  The  American  Artist  in  Holland  .        .  188 
XXII.  From  Harderwuk  to  Het  Loo     .        .        .201 

UTRECHT. 

XXIII.  Utrecht  ;  Province  and  City    .        .        .  215 

XXIV.  By  the  Storied  Rhine 222 

NORTH  BRABANT. 

XXV.  In  the  Old  Generality:  North  Brabant  233 

LIMBURG. 

XXVI.  The  Valley  op  the  Upper  Maas        .        .  247 

XXVn.  Maastricht  and  Roermond        .        .        .  256 

ZEALAND. 

XXVIII.    MiDDELBURG,    THE   HoME   OF   FREEDOM    .           .  267 

XXIX.  Flushing  and  Manhattan  ....  278 

XXX.  The  Little  City  of  Goes      .        .        .        ,  288 

SOUTH  HOLLAND. 

XXXI.  South  Holland 303 

XXXII.   Rotterdam 311 

XXXin.  GouDA,  Oudewater,  and  Woerden  .        .  322 

XXXrV.  The  City  op  Grotius  and  Orange       .        .  331 

XXXV.  The  Count's  Hedge 340 

XXXVI.  Classic  Leyden 350 

THE  INAUGURATION  OF  QUEEN  WILHELMINA. 

XXXVII.  Queen's  Month 365 

XXXVIII.  The  Joyous  Entry 377 

XXXIX.  The  Royal  Inauguration  ....  386 

Index .397 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


The  Inauguration  of  Queen  WiiiHELMiNA,  September  6, 

1898  (page  386) Frontispiece. 

Map  of  Holland 14 

Dr.  Abraham  Kuyper 22 

Stall  Carvings  in  St.  Martin's  Church,  Bolsward    .  46 

Scripture  History  carved  in  Wood,  Bolsward        .  82 

Arms  of  the  Towns  in  Groningen 116 

The  "Giants'  Graves"  at  Rolde         ....  128 

Legislative  Chamber  at  Assen,  Drenthe     .        .        .  136 

Deventer  Square  and  Church  of  St.  Lebuinus        .  170 

Gateway  of  the  Old  Mint,  Dordrecht         .        .        .  208 

New  Building  of  Utrecht  University        .        .        .  218 

The  Two  Queens  visiting  Maastricht    ....  254 

The  Maid  of  the  Dikes 284 

Dordrecht  on  the  Mervede 304 

Delfshaven  and  Sluice  at  Pilgrim's  Quay        .        .  318 

Professor  Abraham  Kuenen,  of  Leyden       .        .        .  358 

Palace,  Dam,  and  Church  on  Inauguration  Morning  382 


HOLLAND  IN  1869 


THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 


CHAPTER  I 
DOWN  THE  RHINE  INTO  HOLLAND 

"  Monday,  September  19,  1869.  Cold  and  raw 
to-day,  as  in  early  morning  we  sailed  out  of  Prussia 
into  Holland.  Passed  the  examination  of  the  custom- 
house officers  at  Emmerich.  All  right!  Arnhem 
soon  in  sight." 

So  declares  my  diary. 

My  thoughts  were  something  like  these.  Hav- 
ing no  dutiable  articles,  cigars,  brandy,  diamonds, 
or  gunpowder,  we  soon  satisfied  the  Dutch  custom 
inspectors  that  we  were  neither  smugglers  nor  ped- 
dlers. On  a  Rhine  steamer  we  two,  Quandril  and  I, 
—  one  of  us  fortunately  able  to  see  with  a  sister's 
eyes,  —  moved  out  of  the  great  German  into  the  tiny 
Dutch  world.  Having  spent  a  summer,  our  first,  in 
Europe,  and  seen  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  British, 
French,  Italian,  and  Teutonic,  we  were  to  enter 
Brave  Little  Holland.  From  High  Dutch  to  Low 
Dutch  means  a  descent  in  geography,  as  well  as  a 
change  of  language. 

We  were  coming  into  an  Egypt-like,  hollow  land, 


4  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

where  old  Father  Rhine  loses  his  name.  We  had 
seen  his  mountain  cradle  and  rocky  nursery,  'twixt 
sky  and  glacier,  place  of  riotous  youth  and  terrific 
leap  at  Schaffhausen,  strong  race  and  majestic  flow 
through  the  heart  of  Europe.  We  had  passed  cities, 
castles,  peaks,  and  spires,  as  we  rode  upon  his  back 
and  slipped  down  the  gradient. 

We  shall  see  how  the  river  behaves  in  old  age 
and  in  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death.  Its  unity 
lost,  divided  into  as  many  branches  as  there  are 
bars  to  a  gridiron,  it  will  be  henceforth  hard  to  tell 
where  and  what  the  Rhine  is.  We  shall  be  confused 
by  many  names.  The  flood  with  twelve  thousand 
feeders,  and  draining  enough  square  miles  of  plain 
and  valley  to  make  two  Empire  States,  holds  its 
name  only  from  the  German  frontier  to  the  little 
town  of  Wijk-bij-Duurstede.  From  snowflake  to 
sea-shroud  it  ought  to  be  one,  but  its  unity  lost,  we 
shall  behold  it  reaching  its  ocean  grave  by  means 
of  many  outlets.  The  Rhine  story,  as  of  too  many 
human  lives,  is  from  in  excelsis  to  de  profundis. 

We  are  entering  a  geographical  cellar,  moving 
between  dikes  into  the  world  of  wooden  shoes,  gy- 
rating windmills,  canals  crossing  the  country  like 
strips  of  steel,  and  houses  down  below  on  the  dry 
land.  We  see  their  ridgepoles  lower  than  our 
decks. 

Meditative  storks  perch  on  the  chimneys.  They 
are  one-legged,  each  like  a  Blondin  in  mid-air,  their 
beaks  and  necks  long  enough  for  balancing  poles. 
The  American  notes  that  granite  instead  of  wooden 
piers  front  the  towns.     The  steamer  passes  swiftly 


DOWN  THE   RHINE  INTO  HOLLAND  5 

the  broad-prowed  lazy  galliots  bumping  against  the 
river  waves.  Brick  and  brickyards  multiply.  The 
raw  material  ground  off  by  glaciers  from  the  tops  of 
Swiss  mountains,  the  scourings  of  the  German  hill 
slopes,  the  silt  from  France,  the  ooze  rolled  down 
from  a  thousand  streams  through  ages  of  ages,  make 
the  beds  of  Holland's  rivers,  which  ever  tend  to  rise 
higher. 

It  is  an  historic  land  whose  threshold  we  cross 
this  autumn  morning.  Being  just  out  of  college, 
Motley's  pages  are  fresh  in  my  mind.  Did  I  not 
read  "  The  Rise  of  the  Dutch  Republic  "  and  "  The 
History  of  the  United  Netherlands  "  while  at  Rut- 
gers, —  the  school  "  On  the  Banks  of  the  Old  Rari- 
tan  "  founded  by  Dutchmen  ?  Were  not  my  fellow 
students  descended  from  the  first  settlers  of  New 
Netherland?  Did  they  not  bear  names  which,  on 
first  sight,  when  read  in  the  college  catalogue  at 
home  in  Philadelphia,  seemed  fearfully  and  wonder- 
fully Dutch  ?  Shall  I  ever  forget  the  peals  of  merry 
laughter,  as  Quandril  and  the  other  sisters  read  the 
double  and  triple-decked  names  and  tried  to  pro- 
nounce them?  Of  English  descent,  and  my  ears 
more  accustomed  to  names  from  Devon  and  Notts  in 
old  England,  I  found  in  these  labels  of  personality 
linguistic  puzzles,  then  and  to  us  equal  to  anything 
in  Sanskrit  or  Choctaw. 

Verily,  everything  Dutch  was  then  new,  odd,  and 
outlandish. 

Four  years  of  college  life  made  these  name-puzzles 
plain.  Like  their  owners,  they  proved  to  be  "  gentle 
and  easily  entreated."     To  learn  their  meaning  be- 


6  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

came  a  delight.  In  number,  of  course,  the  "  vans  " 
led.  From  places  such  as  Cleve  and  Blaricum ; 
from  the  hills,  the  meadow,  the  turf,  the  tower, 
the  sea,  the  well,  the  pile,  the  dike,  the  bilt,  and 
the  buren ;  or  their  homes  "  at  the  "  (ten)  oak  or  the 
ash,  the  forefathers  of  these  lads  had  long  ago  come 
westward  across  the  sea.  That  list  of  names  bloomed 
into  a  parterre  of  brilliant  flowers.  Even  yet  they 
are  frasrrant  with  those  rich  associations  of  friend- 
ship  which  only  college  life  can  beget.  Other  family 
names  mirrored  history.  They  showed  the  callings 
and  occupations  of  the  industrial  people  who  first 
settled  New  Netherland,  —  the  empire  region  con- 
taining the  Middle  States,  New  York,  New  Jersey, 
Pennsylvania,  and  Delaware. 

Happy  were  the  vacations  of  those  four  college 
years,  when,  during  summer  rest  and  frolic,  I  en- 
joyed Dutch  America,  so  full  of  names  of  Indian 
origin,  of  classic  romance,  and  of  nation-making 
history. 

One  must  look  on  the  map,  where  "  the  American 
Rhine  "  flows  from  the  Cloud-Tear  Lake  on  Mount 
Marcy  to  the  salt  Atlantic,  to  find  the  old  Dutch 
America  in  its  length.  Does  not  its  best  part  lie 
between  the  Adirondacks  and  the  Catskills  and  in 
the  valley  of  the  Mohawk  ?  Behold  here  a  land  of 
innumerable  "kiUs,"  once  pure,  cold,  and  crystal- 
clear  trout  streams,  or  watercourses  over  which 
beavers  made  their  homes.  Here  also  are  plenty 
of  "  dams,"  like  Rotterdam  and  other  place-names 
ending  in  that  sound,  —  jocose,  rather  than  profane, 
to  the  English  ear,  but  falling  innocently  with  its 


DOWN  THE  RHINE  INTO  HOLLAND  7 

broadened  vowel  upon  the  Dutch  tympanum.  Few 
are  the  "  dikes,"  but  plenty  are  the  "  hooks,"  like 
Kinderhook  (the  children's  corner).  Many  a  sunny 
nook,  like  Claverack  (clover  reach)  and  Coxsackie, 
are  suggestive  of  Dutch  outdoor  origins.  Within 
this  romantic  region  are  Sleepy  Hollow  and  Rip 
Van  Winkle's  land,  into  which  Irving,  who  was  of 
Scottish  origin  and  knew  very  little  of  real  Holland, 
imported  old  Teutonic  legends  and  reset  them  in 
a  Hudson  River  valley  environment.  So  also  does 
Boucicault,  the  Irishman,  make  his  Rip,  the  Catskill 
Dutchman,  on  the  stage  talk  German,  both  of  Penn- 
sylvania and  of  the  Fatherland,  but  not  the  Dutch 
of  Holland. 

Yet  who  does  not  forgive  the  owner  of  Sunnyside 
his  caricatures,  or  his  "  immortal  jest,"  because  of 
his  gayety,  his  style,  bis  stimulus  to  research  ? 

Here  also  is  Corlear's  country  and  the  scene  of 
the  labors  of  the  Iroquois  culture-hero,  Hiawatha. 
Here  dwelt  some  of  the  first  of  America's  literary 
men:  Van  der  Donck,  the  lawyer,  who  wrote  the 
best  description  of  New  Netherland,  and  after  whom, 
as  the  young  lord  or  yonk  heer^  Yonkers  is  named ; 
Domine  Selyns,  the  Latinist  and  poet,  who  versified 
well  in  two  languages ;  and  Megapolensis,  the  learned 
scholar,  who  preached  the  gospel  to  the  Indians  long 
before  John  Eliot.  In  this  same  land  arose  the  first 
school  of  native  American  writers,  Hoffman,  Irving, 
Cooper,  and  Drake.  They  made  a  literature  dis- 
tinctive of  the  soil,  when  "  literature  "  on  our  side 
of  the  Atlantic  meant  little  more  than  political 
tracts,  sermons,  or  polemics  bound  in  pigskin.    Here 


8  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

also  was  the  seat  of  the  Indian  republic ;  first  of 
five  and  then  of  six  confederated  nations.  The 
Iroquois,  senators  of  the  forest,  met  in  council  at 
Onondaga,  but  they  dominated  the  whole  land  be- 
tween Niagara  and  the  Hudson,  and  from  Corlear's 
Lake  to  Chesapeake  Bay. 

Here  lies  the  halcyon  region  of  winter  sports, 
of  sleds,  sleighs,  of  stoves,  of  the  ice  yacht  and  the 
toboggan.  Here  most  of  the  first  things  in  United 
States  history  took  their  rise.  Here  the  idea  of  a 
national  union,  first  conceived  by  Leisler  in  1690, 
and  again  set  forth  in  1754  by  Franklin,  was  born 
and  nourished.  Here  constructive  principles  were 
wrought  out.  Here  the  most  decisive  events  in  colo- 
nial, revolutionary,  and  constitutional  history  took 
place.  This  is  Dutch  America,  too  often  and  inac- 
curately called  "  New  Netherlands,"  but  always,  and 
from  the  first.  New  Netherland,  possibly  so  named 
in  token  of  victory  over  secession  and  foreign  ene- 
mies, and  of  the  consolidated  union  of  the  Dutch 
United  States  beyond  sea. 

In  this  enchanted  land,  and  in  the  time  of  college 
days,  the  student  from  Philadelphia  —  city  founded 
by  the  son  of  a  Dutch  mother  —  first  sailed  up  the 
Hudson  River  by  summer  moonlight,  to  reach  the 
star-daisied  meadows  of  Greenbush,  the  fair  fields 
of  Guilderland,  the  wonders  of  Indian  Ladder,  and 
the  superb  scenery  of  the  Helderberg,  —  all  places 
named  long  ago  by  the  Dutch  colonists.  How  I 
enjoyed  the  lovely  homes  there,  rich  in  culture, 
religion,  and  happiness.  Here  were  men  of  sturdy 
character,  faithful  mothers,  pink-cheeked  maidens. 


DOWN  THE  RHINE  INTO  HOLLAND     9 

lads  strong  and  hearty.  It  was  like  traveling  in  a 
foreign  land,  while  yet  at  home,  to  note  quaint  and 
curious  survivals  of  speech,  custom,  belief,  architec- 
ture, and  farm  detail  copied  from  "  Patria,"  the  old 
home-land  beyond  and  below  the  sea.  How  often 
did  we,  lads  and  lasses,  read  poetry  together,  talk 
of  Motley  and  the  glorious  art  and  wonders  of  Hol- 
land, the  land  I  was  already  learning  to  love.  With 
most  of  them  there  was  a  sentimental  and  ancestral 
strain  of  admiration  for  things  Dutch  which  I,  of 
English  descent,  could  not  share.  Mine  was  but  a 
student's  passion  to  see  the  country  that  led  Europe 
in  freedom's  wars,  —  England's  dike  against  the 
Spanish  flood. 

On  this  autumnal  day  of  1869  the  student's  dream 
has  become  vision.  How  natural  it  all  seems !  Land 
and  story  fit  well  together.  The  people  are  like 
their  country.  We  glide  all  day  along  a  river  the 
bed  of  which  is  higher  than  the  fields  on  either  side 
of  it.  We  pass  many  Dutch  towns  and  cities  with 
not  a  few  reminders  of  Holland's  heroic  past,  and  in 
mid-afternoon  we  enter  a  forest  of  masts,  and  amid 
a  crowd  of  hulls  find  lodgment  on  the  Boompjes,  — 
the  avenue  of  little  trees,  —  to  spend  a  scant  thirty 
hours  in  the  Dutch  city  of  Rotterdam,  the  first  to 
greet  our  eyes,  the  second  in  the  kingdom,  and  the 
home  of  William  Penn's  mother,  —  not  the  least 
of  Rotterdam's  honors.  The  sounds  were  strange 
enough.     Many  of  the  sights  still  glow  in  memory. 

The  next  day  at  sunset,  on  a  steamer  neat  and 
comfortable,  loaded  with  several  myriads  of  what 
looked  like  red  cannon-balls,  but  which  proved  to  be 


10  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Edam  cheeses,  we  dropped  down  the  Maas  through 
the  darkness,  past  unseen  historic  towns.  It  was 
after  midnight  that  we  entered  the  North  Sea,  bound 
for  Hull  and  Glasgow.  Our  voyage  was  to  be  "  be- 
tween the  hooks  "  of  Holland  and  of  New  Jersey. 

Good-by,  Netherlands.  We  hope  to  see  more  of 
you  when  we  come  again.  We  have  read  of  your 
old  republican  days  on  the  pages  of  Motley,  who  is 
now  our  American  envoy  at  the  Court  of  St.  James. 
May  he  live  to  finish  his  full  story  of  the  United 
Netherlands,  yes,  even  of  their  career  until  the  Ke- 
public  died  in  1795.  Meanwhile,  only  the  kings  of 
one  house  and  line  rule  over  this  land  wrested  from 
the  river  and  the  ocean  floods.  King  William  III. 
and  his  Queen  Sophia,  with  children  and  kin  numer- 
ous enough  to  make  an  imposing  court,  with  a  suffi- 
ciency of  possible  heirs,  hold  the  affections  of  the 
Dutch  people. 

So  we  —  Quandril  and  I  —  thought  and  felt  in 
1869,  not  knowing  that  Japan  —  land  that  for  two 
hundred  and  fifty  years  had  shut  herself  from  all  the 
world  except  Holland,  and  which  was  even  then  in 
the  throes  of  civil  war,  the  old  and  the  new  contend- 
ing—  would  woo  us  both  away,  even  under  the 
shadow  of  Fuji  Yama,  and  mid-life  come  before  we 
should  see  Netherland  again.  From  the  Hook  of 
Holland  to  Sandy  Hook,  —  both  named  by  the  Dutch 
and  both  once  spelled  "  hoek,"  —  we  had  begun  our 
salt-water  voyage. 


NORTH  HOLLAND 


CHAPTER  n 

IK  HOLLAND   WITH   A  JAPANESE 

June  12,  1891.  We  enter  Holland  this  time 
through  a  western  gate.  We  are  on  our  way  for  a 
month's  pleasuring  in  the  land  hospitable  to  the 
exiled  Pilgrims,  whose  old  homes  we  shall  see  in  the 
cities  of  Kembrandt,  Amsterdam  and  Leyden.  At 
Delfshaven  we  shall  stand  on  the  quay  from  which 
they  sailed  into  the  new  world  and  into  history. 
Now,  two  hundred  and  seventy-one  years  later,  the 
better  England,  the  one  that  holds  the  future,  is 
calling  home  her  once  outcast  children. 

We  shall  see  Scrooby  and  Plymouth.  From  all 
nations  the  men  who  believe  in  democracy  in  church 
as  well  as  in  state  will  assemble  for  fellowship  and 
cheer  at  the  International  Council  in  London.  This 
will  be  held  near  the  Old  Fleet,  in  the  prison  of 
which  martyrs  for  conscience  rotted  out  their  lives, 
and  down  the  channel  of  which  ships  sailed  for  the 
new  home  of  freedom  beyond  the  sea. 

The  main  party,  mostly  descendants,  either  in 
flesh  or  spirit,  of  the  Pilgrims,  will  cross  the  Atlantic 
a  month  later,  numbering  on  the  steamer  one  hun- 
dred and  one,  exactly  the  same  number  of  the  origi- 
nal company  of  Separatists  and  nation-builders  — 
English,  Hollandish,  Huguenot,  Walloon,  and  other 


14  THE   AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

folk,  reinforced  with  the  ideas  of  Dutch  republican- 
ism —  in  the  Mayflower. 

We  have  crossed  the  ocean  on  the  Dutch,  the 
"N.  A.  S.  M.,"  the  Holland-America  Hne.  The 
Veendam  having  broken  her  shaft,  we  took  passage 
on  the  Rotterdam.  Our  own  party,  that  started 
from  Boston  and  is  now  in  Holland,  consists  of  three. 
The  bright  particular  star  of  the  constellation  is 
Lyra,  —  "  maiden  beloved,  wife  cherished,  mother 
honored."  A  male  traveler,  without  woman's  eyes 
to  help  his  own,  is  blind  indeed.  Well  says  Japan's 
poet :  "  In  the  world  a  friend  ;  in  traveling  a  com- 
panion." Number  three  is  Tasuk^  Harada,  a  Japa- 
nese comrade  and  friend,  as  sunny  as  the  name  and 
isles  of  his  own  country.  Having  traveled  as  com- 
panions in  Japanese  history  and  literature,  we  shall 
now  see  Holland  "  isshoni  "  (together),  as  his  coun- 
trymen would  say.  For  over  two  centuries,  when 
Dai  Nippon  was  Thornrose  Castle,  the  Hollanders 
held  the  privilege  of  friendly  intercourse,  and  kept 
the  keys  of  the  Cliff-Fortress  Country.  Harada  is 
a  man  of  New  Japan,  a  Christian  Samurai  who 
shares  in  the  hopes  of  his  rejuvenated  nation. 

I  come  again  to  the  Netherlands  after  life  in  New 
York,  in  Japan,  in  the  old  Dutch  town  of  Schenec- 
tady, and  in  the  city  of  Shawmut  on  Massachusetts 
Bay,  which  has  expanded  over  Tremont  and  into  the 
South  End  and  Back  Bay.  Boston  "  town  "  rested 
on  rock  and  hard  land  :  Boston  city  stands  on  stilts. 
The  American  municipality  resembles  Amsterdam 
at  three  points.  It  is  built  on  piles.  It  has  con- 
quered from  a  river  and  the  sea  a  place  to  rest  upon. 


■^ 


IN  HOLLAND   WITH  A  JAPANESE  15 

The  South  Bay  and  the  Back  Bay  were  made  into 
terra  firma  with  streets  and  parks  just  as  this  Dutch 
"  Venice  of  the  North"  has  encroached  upon  the  Y 
and  the  Zuyder  Zee. 

Europe  has  changed  sinc^  1869.  Germany  and 
France  have  had  their  settlement.  Napoleon  III. 
and  his  Paris  are  no  more.  Strassburg  is  a  Prussian 
city.  The  conglomerate  of  German  feudalism  has 
become  a  great  federal  empire  under  the  spiked 
helmet.  In  Asia,  and  on  the  Pacific  Ocean,  Japan 
is  leader  of  Asiatic  progress  and  one  of  the  Powers 
of  the  world.  Netherland  has  lost  her  king.  Those 
who  formed  the  royal  family  of  1869  are  no  more. 
The  House  of  Orange  is  extinct  in  the  male  line. 
Queen  Emma  is  regent.  Wilhelmina,  a  little  girl 
of  ten,  whose  sweet  face,  in  photograph,  we  have 
looked  upon  daily  during  our  sea  voyage,  is  sover- 
eign of  all  the  Netherlands  and  empress  of  Insu- 
linde.  She  will  be  crowned  at  Amsterdam  in  1898, 
when  she  is  eighteen  years  old.     Oranje  Boven  ! 

With  endless  energy  the  men  of  this  land  of 
the  spade,  pump,  and  dredge  have  constructed  the 
North  Sea  Canal,  fifteen  miles  long,  to  Amsterdam, 
the  crescent  city  of  ninety  islands.  No  longer  need 
ships,  as  until  1825  they  had  to  do,  make  a  northern 
detour  by  way  of  the  Texel  and  the  Zuyder  Zee. 
Nor  to  get  from  Amsterdam  to  the  ocean  need  they 
now,  as  until  1876,  pass  by  way  of  the  North  Hol- 
land Canal  up  to  the  Helder,  a  length  of  nearly 
fifty  miles.  With  a  channel  twenty-two  feet  deep, 
sixty-six  yards  broad,  our  steamer  loses  no  paint 
from  her  sides  even  when  passing  other  craft  as 
large  as  herself. 


16  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Yesterday  past  the  chalk  cliffs  of  England  and 
through  the  straits  of  Dover,  we  had  coasted  along 
the  low  and  nearly  invisible  sand  dunes  of  Holland 
for  half  a  day.  At  night,  having  finished  another 
voyage  "  between  the  hooks,"  we  saw  from  afar  the 
great  glaring  orbs  of  a  pair  of  Cyclops.  I  made 
my  first  continental  landfall  when  the  Emerald  Isle 
rose  gloriously  at  early  morn.  My  second  gave  a 
view  of  Long  Island's  Shinnecock  Hills.  My  third 
was  the  white  crest  of  Fuji  wearing  the  dayspring's 
glow  while  its  mass  was  invisible  in  darkness.  My 
fourth  was  the  Golden  Gate.  To-morrow  what  shall 
I  first  behold  ? 

It  is  all  fog  and  no  landmarks  when  eyes  open  at 
daylight.  Peering  through  our  state-room  windows, 
we  observe  some  wooden  shoes  moving  along  the  top 
of  brown  mud  banks.  Looking  further,  we  discern 
woolen  socks,  trousers  and  coats,  and  finally  boys 
stowed  away  inside  of  them,  between  flat  caps  and 
klomps  like  gondolas. 

On  deck  extra  coats  are  comfortable,  though  it  is 
mid-June.  We  glide  high  above  the  meadow.  It 
seems  like  riding  on  the  top  of  walls.  Soon  the 
mist  is  rent  and  torn  by  struggling  sunshine.  Down 
on  the  damp  grass  are  blanketed  cows  and  sheep, 
with  their  necks  also  well  swathed.  How  droll  they 
look !  Somehow  they  remind  us  of  the  giraffe  in 
Central  Park  with  his  "  five  feet  of  sore  throat." 
Seeing  overcoats  on  man  and  beast  alike,  we  learn 
what  we  do  not  forget,  at  least  for  a  fortnight,  that 
Holland  is  cold  until  well  into  July. 

Harada  sees  many  points  of  resemblance  between 


IN  HOLLAND  WITH  A  JAPANESE  17 

his  native  land  and  that  which  we  now  enter, 
though  Netherland  is  but  one  twelfth  the  size  of 
Dai  Nippon.  The  low  one-story  houses  with  roofs  of 
thatch  or  tile  are  wonderfully  like  those  in  Japan. 
Wooden  shoes  recall  the  clogs  and  foot-blocks  in 
the  land  of  bamboo.  The  landscape  is  devoid  of 
fences.  The  rectangular  polders  siiggest  rice-fieldso 
As  in  oriental  fashion,  footgear,  when  wooden,  is 
left  at  the  doorway.  By  the  size  and  number  of 
the  clogs  one  may  judge  of  the  household  or  assem- 
bly within.  Waterways  and  narrow  field-paths  are 
numberless.  Like  those  in  Japan,  the  rivers  of 
Holland  have  their  beds  above  the  level  of  the  sur- 
rounding country,  and  must  be  embanked  or  curbed. 
For  ages  the  Mikado's  empire  has  been  a  heavy 
sufferer  from  floods,  and  dikes  and  drainage  have 
formed  the  chief  engineering  industry,  while  the 
government  spends  millions  annually  in  maintain- 
ing the  river  banks.  There  are  perhaps  as  many 
miles  of  dams  and  dikes  in  Japan  as  in  Holland. 
The  length  and  utility  of  hedges  are  probably  about 
equal  in  each.  In  both  countries  the  rivers  take 
various  terms,  which  differ  throughout  their  length. 
Think  of  the  many  named  Dutch  Rhine  and  the 
Japanese  Sumida. 

The  cranes  of  Japan,  the  storks  of  Holland,  and 
the  herons  in  both  are  numerous,  welcomed  of  man, 
and  prominent  in  art  and  heraldry.  In  both  coun- 
tries clipped  trees  and  artificially  stiffened  and 
trained  plants  abound.  Arboreal  fashions  have 
been  borrowed  one  from  the  other.  The  clumsy, 
inartistic,  weather-pitted  and  worn  effigies  in  stone 


18  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

of  the  high  country  recall  those  in  the  low  country. 
Japanese  obey  rigidly,  almost  to  fanaticism,  the  laws 
of  cleanliness.  So  do  the  Dutch.  Houses,  alleys, 
and  back  yards  are  kept  in  order ;  there  is  but 
little  dirt,  and  there  are  but  few  such  ash  heaps 
and  littered  streets  as  are  so  often  seen  in  the 
United  States.  The  many-trousered  rural  Mynheer 
reminds  one  of  the  well-petticoated  Samurai.  The 
world  is  indebted  to  both  people  for  their  keramic 
wares,  the  Seto-mono  or  common  blue  "  china  "  of 
Japan  being  the  prototype  of  the  Delft  ware  in 
Holland.  Many  are  the  "gedempte"  in  Dutch, 
"  tsukiji "  in  Japanese  ;  that  is,  filled-up  places  or 
"  made  "  land. 

The  island  archipelago  and  the  submarine  coun- 
try are  also  alike  in  this,  that  they  have  impressed 
the  world  with  their  art  rather  than  their  literature. 
Each  has  an  aesthetic  people,  but  notably  subject  to 
manias  and  fads,  the  tulips  in  the  one  answering  to 
the  camellias  and  rabbits  in  the  other.  In  Tokio 
and  Amsterdam,  New  Year's  is  the  chief  day  of  the 
year.  The  girls,  both  from  the  houses  resting  on 
piles  and  on  pebbles,  are  rosy-cheeked,  pretty,  and 
usually  sweet  mannered.  They  are  sisters  in  that 
they  go  outdoors  with  no  other  headgear  than  hair- 
pins, shining  metal,  or  decorative  bit  of  lawn  or 
crepe.  It  would  not  be  difficult  to  show  that  even 
in  their  political  development  there  have  been  many 
parallels  between  these  two  nations. 

Yet,  alike  as  they  are  in  many  respects,  these 
antipodeans  differ  at  more  points.  Dutch  speech  is 
mighty  in  its  consonants  ;  the  Japanese  excels  in  its 


IN  HOLLAND  WITH  A  JAPANESE  19 

vowels.  The  Nippon-Jin,  when  ultra-polite,  sucks  in 
his  breath,  lest  it  defile  you ;  the  Netherlander  ex- 
plodes his  hard  consonants  like  a  cannon,  or  condenses 
the  whole  Dutch  phrase  for  "  if  you  please  "  into  one 
puff  and  three  sibilants.  Unlike  the  oriental  land- 
scape, this  in  the  Occident  is  rich  in  animal  life.  The 
velvet  green  of  the  meadow  is  multitudinously  decked 
with  mild-eyed  cows  and  fat  sheep,  while  the  air  is 
bustling  and  merry  with  the  sound  and  sight  of  bird 
life.  Dai  Nippon,  poor  in  live-stock  and  plains,  is 
all  mountains  and  valleys,  in  the  main  high  above 
the  "blue  plain  of  the  sea."  Netherland has,  for  the 
most  part,  no  hills  excepting  such  as  the  brown  man 
would  laugh  at.  Instead  of  wayside  shrines,  torii  or 
temple  portals,  red  pagodas,  and  the  boom  of  the 
single  and  low-hung  bell  tongueless  in  Buddha's 
island  stronghold,  the  church  spire  here  dominates 
the  landscape,  and  peals  from  great  families  of  bells 
high  up  in  the  bulb-spires  make  ceaseless  carillon. 
In  place  of  old  Tokio's  "  fire-blossoms  "  of  conflagra- 
tion, constant  earthquakes  compelling  low  building, 
and  constant  monotonous  level  of  roofs,  royal  Amster- 
dam, solid  and  fireproof,  shows  imposing  variety  of 
edifices,  and  is  rich  in  soaring  towers,  church  steeples, 
and  music  that  rains  like  a  lark's  from  high  in  the 
azure.  In  an  octavo  Havard  has  contrasted  Am- 
sterdam and  Venice.  Harada  and  I  compare  the 
imperial  cities  on  the  Y  and  the  Kamo. 

What  a  change  here  since  mediaeval  baron  in  the 
thirteenth  century  upreared  his  brick  castle  beside 
the  Amstel  stream,  on  a  little  dam  raised  above  the 
alluvial  ooze.     Generations  of  fishermen  have  built 


20  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

this  richest  of  Dutch  cities  "  out  of  herring-bones." 
Kioto,  the  Kio^  or  chief  seat  of  the  emperor,  city 
of  peace  and  mountain-girdled,  will  in  1895  cele- 
brate her  eleven  hundredth  anniversary ;  but  until 
1200  A.  D.,  Amsterdam  had  no  history.  Indeed,  no 
Dutch  town  whose  name  ends  in  "  dam  "  was  known 
before  the  twelfth  century.  In  the  making  of  a  sin- 
gle empire,  in  teaching  an  aesthetic  nation,  Kioto 
has  been  perennially  potent.  Amsterdam,  though 
boasting  fewer  centuries,  has  been  in  the  van  of 
civilization,  influencing  the  whole  world.  Not  least 
to  her  credit  has  been  her  leadership  in  freedom  of 
conscience,  —  the  noblest  of  all  freedoms.  To  the 
Classis  of  Amsterdam  —  that  ever  benevolent  and 
great  missionary  federation  of  churches  and  Chris- 
tians—  hundreds  of  communities,  civil  and  reli- 
gious, all  over  the  world,  and  most  of  all  our  four 
Middle  States,  owe  endless  gratitude.  Any  attempt 
to  write  American  history,  and  especially  the  history 
of  New  York,  without  having  a  knowledge  of  the 
records  of  the  Classis  of  Amsterdam  is  useless. 

It  is  time  to  step  ashore  and  prove  the  difference 
between  ship  coffee  and  that  furnished  at  the  Bible 
Hotel.  One's  stomach  behaves  differently,  accord- 
ing as  it  is  undergirded  by  rocking  deck  or  based 
on  fast  land.  In  de  loods  (in  the  sheds)  is  where 
we  leave  our  chairs  and  wraps.  Then,  despising  the 
hotel  runners,  vehicles,  and  horses,  we  enjoy  the 
luxury  of  a  walk  on  hard  soil. 

In  the  heart  of  the  oldest  part  of  the  city  we 
pass  the  old  West  India  Company's  house.  With 
ancient  churches  and  chimes,  renowned   structures 


IN  HOLLAND  WITH   A  JAPANESE  21 

all  around  us,  the  Bourse,  the  Palace,  the  Dam,  — 
one  of  the  oldest  of  all  dams,  —  and  the  Kalver 
Straat  just  around  the  corner,  we  find  quarters  in 
the  old  Bible  Hotel  fronting  the  Damrak. 

Stepping  out  on  the  bedroom's  iron  balcony,  the 
first  object  that  greets  our  eyes  eastward  is  a  bronze 
Atlas  carrying  a  very  green  world.  He  stands  far 
above  the  metal  roof  of  the  Palace,  —  now  the  occa- 
sional seat  of  visiting  royalty,  but  in  reality  the 
old  City  Hall,  built  by  the  people  in  the  days  of 
the  Republic.  This  copper  man's  copper  globe,  not 
being  a  rolling  stone,  has  gathered  mossy  patina. 
He  and  his  burden  are  green,  not  with  envy,  but 
with  age.  He  welcomes  us  to  see  in  Holland  the 
world  in  epitome. 


CHAPTER  III 

AMSTEKDAM   AS   BEAIN    STIMULANT 

Amsterdam  furnishes  a  tremendous  brain  stimu- 
lant to  the  student  of  American  history.  The  city- 
recalls  cradle  memories  of  the  founders  both  of  New 
England  and  of  New  Netherland.  Here  is  one  of  the 
first  homes  of  our  nation's  chief  glory,  —  religious 
freedom. 

Bright  and  clean  as  is  this  most  smart  city  in  the 
nineteenth  century,  —  brilliant  as  one  of  the  dia- 
monds cut  and  polished  on  its  own  mills,  —  yet  my 
thoughts  are  not  at  first  on  the  present,  but  fly  back 
to  the  days  of  liberty  in  religion  fought  for,  won, 
and  intrenched  here,  when  England  wanted  no  such 
dangerous  stuff. 

Leaving  Lyra  and  the  ladies  for  a  morning  in  the 
shops  and  the  Burgomaster  Six's  gallery  of  paint- 
ings, I  started  at  once  to  find  three  sites,  the  Pil- 
grim quarters,  the  place  of  the  martyrs,  and  the 
Brownist's  alley.  We  are  all  to  meet  again  at  four 
p.  M.  in  front  of  Rembrandt's  "  Night  Watch  "  in 
the  Rijks  Museum,  and  then  go  to  drink  five  o'clock 
tea  in  a  home  on  the  Heerengracht.  Harada  hies 
to  Leyden  to  see  Professor  Abraham  Kuenen.  In 
the  evening  we  shall  both  call  on  Dr.  Abraham  Kuy- 
per.     Of  the  Reformed  theological  world  in  Holland, 


DR.   ABRAHAM    KUYPER 


AMSTERDAM  AS  BRAIN  STIMULANT         23 

these  eminent  men  are  the  antipodes.  Each  one  is 
father  of  the  faithful  among  seekers  after  truth. 

In  every  Dutch  city  one  can  buy  at  the  bookshop 
a  platte-grond^  or  ground-plan  of  the  streets.  With 
this  in  hand  it  is  easy  to  find  the  points  sought, 
especially  if  one  knows  a  little  polite  Dutch. 

From  the  Dam,  the  old  core  of  hard  land,  once 
inside  the  mediaeval  burg,  or  castle  walls,  I  started 
for  long  rambles  in  the  Kalver  Straat,  the  Beguin 
Hof ,  Doelen  Straat,  the  Nieuw  Markt,  Bloed  Straat, 
Barndesteeg,  Brownisten  Gang,  down  to  the  Schrey- 
er's  Toren,  and  thence  to  the  Dam  again.  All 
these  are  names  and  places  luminous  in  that  story 
of  Dutch  freedom  which  is  part  of  our  American 
inheritance.  As  on  a  rosary,  we  tell  the  beads  and 
think  of  more,  —  our  fathers  refugees  from  England 
for  conscience'  sake,  the  blood  shed  and  the  bodies 
burned,  the  little  street  of  the  "  Brownists,"  and 
the  Weeper's  Tower,  call  up  again  the  martyr,  the 
Pilgrim,  the  Henry  Hudson  and  Half-Moon  story. 
Then,  by  tram-car,  from  the  Dam  we  reach  the  Rijks 
or  National  Museum. 

First  impressions  are  powerful,  whether  of  the 
ocean,  Niagara,  or  Fuji  San,  especially  when  joined 
with  sudden  surprise.  In  the  level  lights  of  later 
afternoon,  when  everything  swam  in  a  sea  of  that 
golden-brown  glory  which  Rembrandt  loved  to  put  on 
his  canvases,  I  passed  up  through  the  hall,  corridor, 
and  gallery  of  the  Rijks  Museum.  Unexpectedly, 
and  in  a  moment,  I  stood  before  the  great  picture 
popularly  called  "  The  Night  Watch." 

The  effect  was  electric.     My  soul  was  fascinated. 


24  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Here  was  the  miracle  of  genius.  Reverent  admira- 
tion was  the  overpowering  emotion  of  the  mo- 
ment. I  wanted  neither  to  speak  nor  to  hear  a  word. 
"  Come  thou,  expressive  silence,  muse  His  praise." 

What  a  splendor  of  color,  perfection  of  figure, 
depth  of  perspective,  glory  of  composition,  delicacy 
of  detail !  Descriptions,  criticisms,  panegyrics,  —  a 
hundred  times  over  had  I  read  them.  All  were  as 
nothing  in  the  presence  of  the  splendid  reality.  Be- 
fore such  a  triumph  of  one  Dutch  painter's  genius, 
for  the  moment,  at  least,  America's  glories  paled. 
She  has  no  Rembrandt  and  no  art  like  this. 

Amsterdam  is  the  place  for  the  study  of  this 
Shakespeare  of  color,  light,  and  shade,  this  greatest 
of  the  northern  painters. 

I  found  that  to  know  Frans  Hals  one  must  go  to 
Haarlem  ;  to  see  Jan  Steen  and  Paul  Potter  one  must 
visit  the  Hague  ;  but  here  in  Rembrandt's  own  city 
are  the  mightiest  of  his  mighty  works.  What  a  mar- 
vel was  this  child  of  genius,  Rembrandt  van  Rhijn. 
Born  in  Leyden  in  the  year  that  saw  Jamestown 
founded,  he  grew  to  manhood  while  the  founders  of 
Massachusetts  were  enlarging  their  souls  with  his 
in  the  same  heroic  city.  He  painted  this,  his  most 
wonderful  work,  in  1642,  when  thirty-five  years  old. 
This  was  in  the  year  before  the  New  England  Con- 
federation, and  when  the  Dutch  Republic  was  in 
its  bloom.  The  picture,  which  measures  eleven  by 
fourteen  feet,  is  set  near  the  ground,  suggesting  ad- 
mirably the  life  and  motion  of  Frans  Banning  Cock's 
Company  of  Doelen,  or  Targeteers,  who  are  march- 
ing out  of  their  Doel,  or  Guild  House,  into  the  sun- 


AMSTERDAM  AS  BRAIN  STIMULANT        25 

light,  to  practice  at  the  butts  on  the  Singel.  This 
is  not  a  "  night  watch,"  but  a  day  picture.  Tradi- 
tional or  popular  names  given  to  paintings  are  often 
as  misleading  as  the  chapter-headings  set  on  by 
printers  and  dogma-makers  in  the  Bible;  or  as  in 
the  newspapers,  where  the  editor's  headlines  do  not 
correspond  with  text  or  fact. 

What  a  grand  interpreter  of  elemental  forces, 
both  in  nature  and  in  the  human  soul,  was  Rem- 
brandt !  He  set  on  canvas,  in  line  and  color,  ex- 
actly what  the  Dutch  peasants  believed  about  Christ 
and  the  holy  things  of  Scripture.  He  was  a  realist 
of  the  first  order.  He  would  be  satisfied  with  no- 
thing but  ultimate  actualities.  He  honored  the 
human  intellect  and  the  right  of  the  individual, 
apart  from  privilege  and  corporations,  to  interpret 
things  elemental,  eternal,  and  divine.  How  this 
truth-loving  interpreter  must  have  delighted  in  the 
text,  "  I  make  light,  I  create  darkness  "  !  The  cav- 
ernous deeps  in  his  perspective  fascinate  the  eyes 
that  look  often  into  them.  His  chiaroscuro  seems 
to  be  perfect.  With  naked  truth  and  that  love  of 
it  characteristic  of  the  Teutonic  occidental,  he  yet 
delights  in  an  oriental  splendor  of  color  and  deco- 
ration. 

It  is  most  interesting  to  study  Rembrandt's  works 
in  the  order  of  time  and  note  the  evolution  of  his 
power.  It  is  a  sweet  surprise  to  greet  the  pretty  face 
of  Saskia,  his  beloved  Frisian  wife,  as  she  appears 
and  reappears  in  many  of  his  pictures.  Often  she 
is  loaded  with  jewels  and  the  richest  oriental  fabrics. 
How  splendid  are  Rembrandt's  golden-brown  tints  ! 


26  THE   AMERICAN   IN  HOLLAND 

How  riclily  does  he  combine  the  total  effects  of  the 
oriental  masters  of  color  with  those  of  the  western 
masters  of  line  and  form !  Some  of  his  paintings 
show  that  he  reached  the  secret  of  the  Japanese 
artists ;  while  with  the  harmonies  of  Hindoo  color- 
ing he  must  certainly  have  been  familiar.  I  recog- 
nize umbrellas,  fans,  dainty  keramics,  and  bricabrac 
from  Kioto  and  Nagasaki,  in  not  a  few  Dutch  pic- 
tures of  the  seventeenth  century.  In  one,  Saskia 
holds  a  Japanese  parasol. 

Look  at  the  weapons.  Fascinating  is  the  study  of 
the  evolution  of  the  leaden  arrow  from  flint  head, 
through  bronze  and  iron  point  and  barb,  steel-headed 
bolt,  round  and  cylindrical  bullet,  to  the  long-range 
rifle  shaft  of  our  day,  —  Mauser  or  Krag-Jorgensen. 
In  Rembrandt's  pictures  the  arquebus,  or  bow-gun, 
is  becoming  a  musket.  In  the  stock  we  still  behold 
the  sunken  place  between  the  butt  and  the  trigger. 
In  the  old  days  of  clumsy  machinery  one  had  to  get 
a  good  grip  with  all  his  fingers  upon  the  neck  of 
the  stock,  so  as  to  be  able  to  cock  his  musket  and 
even  to  fire  it.  The  hair-trigger  is  the  fine  nerve  of 
centuries  of  evolution.  The  Murata  rifle  of  Japan, 
with  a  breech-movement  delicate  enough  for  a  lady, 
but  which  would  quickly  come  to  smash  in  the  hands 
of  British  soldiers,  fits  exactly  the  taper  fingers  of 
the  little  men  of  the  Orient. 

Note  also  the  prize  to  be  given  to  the  winner. 
The  girl  in  the  picture  is  holding  up  a  cockerel. 
The  gift  of  a  capon,  presented  by  a  richly  attired 
young  woman,  was  as  common  in  those  days  as  is  a 
silver  coffee-pot  at  present.     Rare  is  the  Dutch  pic- 


AMSTERDAM  AS  BRAIN  STIMULANT         27 

ture  of  outdoor  life  which  does  not  have  a  chicken 
of  some  kind  on  the  canvas.  In  that  which  shows 
the  Pilgrims  leaving  Delf shaven,  perhaps  painted 
by  the  Cuyps,  —  wherein  my  friend  Mr.  George  H. 
Boughton,  R.  A.,  its  discoverer,  declares,  with  great 
plausibility,  that  he  can  pick  out  Captain  Miles 
Standish  and  Elder  Brewster,  —  there  is  in  the 
background  the  inevitable  fowl.  In  Hondecoeter's 
pictures  we  have  the  genius  of  the  greatest  of 
Dutch  painters  of  feathered  life  shown.  He  did  for 
our  "  little  brothers  of  the  air  "  what  Landseer  has 
done  for  dogs,  and  Verboeckhoven  for  sheep.  No 
artist  has  so  glorified  the  parental  love  and  care  of 
speechless  creatures  as  this  master. 

I  could  look  at  but  one  picture  that  day.  I  was 
even  glad  to  pass  by  the  miles  of  paintings  in  the 
Eijks  Museum.  However,  to  oblige  our  kind  Dutch 
convoy,  we  spent  some  time  before  his  particular 
favorite.  It  is  by  Rembrandt,  and  depicts  an  old 
woman,  probably  the  artist's  mother.  The  perfec- 
tion, the  face  lines,  wrinkles,  and  flesh  tints  show 
fascinating  reality.  The  lady  seems  to  have  just  fin- 
ished speaking.  Leaving  her,  I  turned  once  again 
to  gaze  at  the  supreme  picture,  until  the  whistle  of 
the  orange-collared  custodians  sounded  five  o'clock. 
Then,  with  reluctance,  we  all  departed. 

Soon  in  the  home  of  one  of  the  young  bankers  of 
Amsterdam,  who  lives  on  the  Heerengracht,  our 
interest  is  less  in  the  liveried  butler,  ancestral  por- 
traits, grand  old  heirlooms  and  furniture,  massive 
and  invitingly  cosy,  than  in  his  wife,  the  bonnie 
madonna  of  the  steaming  cups,  as  she  brews  and 


28  THE   AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

pours  fragrant  tea.  Beside  her  heart-warming  wel- 
come, she  chats  in  faultless  English.  Soon  Lyra, 
whose  thoughts  have  flown  back  over  the  Atlantic, 
pleads  to  see  the  children,  who  are  yet  invisible. 

The  light  of  mingled  pride  and  delight  breaks 
over  the  young  mother's  face  as  she  taps  the  bell 
and  orders  down  the  platoon.  Five  recruits  and  a 
maid  answer  the  calL  Flaxen  hair,  blue  eyes,  white 
arms,  and  dimples  are  soon  "  in  evidence."  Four 
are  boys.  One,  the  oldest,  is  in  a  naval  suit ; 
one  is  in  the  nurse's  arms ;  and  one,  the  fifth,  is  a 
tiny  maid.  The  two  older  answer  our  questions  in 
good  English.  All  bear  themselves  handsomely,  the 
little  ones  receiving  the  caresses  of  Lyra,  —  who  is 
suspected  of  fondling  them  vicariously  for  her  own 
babes  left  behind  in  Boston. 

"May  we?"  is  hardly  spoken  before  our  hostess 
divines  our  wish  and  says,  "  Will  you  ?  "  A  trip  up- 
stairs to  the  nursery  gives  opportunity  to  enjoy  the 
sight  of  this  our  first,  but  not  last,  introduction  to 
the  penetralia  of  a  Dutch  home.  The  play-room  is 
a  child's  paradise.  The  governess  teaches  but  one 
of  those  four  languages,  Dutch,  French,  English,  and 
German,  which  almost  every  educated  Dutch  gentle- 
man or  lady  is  able  to  speak.  We  meet  also  a  sister 
of  our  convoy,  who  is  married  to  a  grandson  of  the 
historian  and  novelist.  Van  Lennep,  whose  works 
so  many  Americans,  besides  millions  of  Dutchmen, 
have  read. 

To  this  lovely  home  we  have  since  come  again 
and  again,  but  this  our  first  was  also  —  even  though 
I  saw  the  Queen  come  to  her  enthronement  —  our 


AMSTERDAM  AS  BRAIN  STIMULANT         29 

greatest  day  in  the  Netherlands.  In  the  gladness 
of  fresh  surprise  we  have  had  our  introduction  to 
Holland's  two  greatest  treasures,  —  her  art  and  her 
home  life.  Can  any  nation  on  earth  excel  the  Dutch 
in  these  ?  How  pretty  their  own  proverb,  —  "  One 
God,  one  wife,  many  friends.'* 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  FLORAL  CAPITAL  OF  EUROPE 

Haarlem  has  a  thousand  magnets  to  attract  the 
tourist.  It  is  the  capital  of  North  Holland.  It  is 
the  city  of  Frans  Hals,  the  greatest  portrait  painter 
of  Northern  Europe.  Here  was  born  and  lived 
Coster,  the  alleged  inventor  of  printing.  Opposite 
the  cathedral  his  effigy  stands  in  enduring  bronze, 
holding  between  thumb  and  forefinger  a  little  mov- 
able type.  Here  too  lived  Kenau  van  Hesselar,  who 
on  the  walls  of  the  besieged  city  led  the  warriors  of 
her  own  sex.  In  its  origin  this  city  on  the  Spaarn 
was  a  brick  castle,  the  burg  of  Heer  or  Count  Wil- 
lem.  Fuse  into  one  word  Heer  or  haar  and  the  last 
syllable  in  Willem,  and  you  get  Haarlem  (the  city 
of  Lord  Willem).  In  the  twelfth  century  the  pro- 
tecting castle  and  the  protected  folk  around  it  had 
become  a  municipality,  which  took  part  in  the  war 
between  Holland  and  West  Friesland. 

The  Haarlemers  were  active  in  the  Crusades. 
History,  art,  and  legend  have  glorified  the  incident 
in  which  Frederick  the  red-bearded,  or  Barbarossa, 
in  presence  of  the  patriarch  of  Jerusalem,  granted 
to  the  city  her  coat  of  arms,  —  a  sword  laid  on  a 
shield,  whereon  are  four  stars,  with  the  motto 
"  Vicit  vim  virtus,"  —  Courage  conquers  force.    The 


THE  FLORAL  CAPITAL  OF  EUROPE  31 

story  reminds  us  of  the  origin  of  the  crest  of  the 
Tokugawa  family,  which  from  Yedo  ruled  Japan 
for  nearly  three  centuries.  Three  mallow-leaves 
laid  on  a  dish  containing  cakes,  in  token  of  the 
subjection  of  a  province  by  lyeyasii,  formed  the 
original  of  that  resplendent  trefoil,  so  common  in 
Japanese  art. 

At  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century  the  old  Dutch 
city  was  extended  to  the  other  side  of  the  Spaarn. 
In  1492,  while  Columbus  was  sailing  westward, 
Haarlem  was  distracted  by  the  famous  Bread  and 
Cheese  riots.  In  1573,  in  the  longer  war  of  brave 
little  Holland  against  giant  Spain,  it  suffered  during 
seven  months  the  memorable  siege  by  Don  John  of 
Toledo,  son  of  the  infamous  Alva.  Commercial  his- 
tory and  scores  of  Dutch  paintings  tell  of  Haarlem's 
bleaching  -  grounds,  —  Bleekvelds  or  Blakeslees,  — 
on  which  thousands  of  Bleekers  or  bleachers  earned 
an  honorable  living.  Hundreds  of  acres  of  linen 
were  whitened  by  the  waters  of  the  Spaarn  and  by 
the  air  rich  in  ozone.  The  linen  made  in  England 
was  also  sent  here  to  be  whitened.  Then,  reex- 
ported, it  was  sold  as  "  Hollands." 

Here  also  is  the  horticultural  capital  of  Europe. 
All  the  world  knows  of  Haarlem's  tulips,  her  bulb 
lands,  her  hothouses,  and  her  renowned  botanists. 
Haarlem's  most  illustrious  conquerors  have  been 
florists  and  engineers.  The  story  of  the  triumph  of 
science  and  patience  in  the  drainage  of  Haarlem 
lake,  and  of  its  conversion  into  rich  farms  and 
gardens,  has  been  told  by  many  pens,  but  by  none 
better  than  that  of  our  own  Waring,  who  took  "  A 


32  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Farmer's  Vacation,"  cleaned  the  streets  of  New 
York  with  his  host  of  "  white  angels,"  and  died  a 
true  martyr  for  Cuba.  In  our  century  Haarlem  is 
renowned  in  science  and  literature,  as  well  as  in 
politics. 

To  no  country  in  Europe  is  Christendom  more 
indebted  for  flowers  and  horticulture  than  to  this 
sandy  patch  of  land.  A  German,  in  1559,  brought 
from  Constantinople  the  Persian  "  turban  flower," 
or  tulip,  to  Augsburg.  He  reared  bulbs  which 
quickly  found  a  congenial  home  in  Holland.  The 
Dutchmen  multiplied  varieties  at  a  time  when  civic 
architecture  was  also  in  richest  bloom.  Soon  a 
double  craze  was  parallel  in  their  minds,  to  have 
tulip  spires  in  the  air  and  tulip  bulbs  in  the  soil. 
The  floral  mania  reached  an  acute  stage  about  1636, 
when  a  sum,  the  value  of  which  would  now  equal 
twenty  thousand  dollars,  was  paid  for  one  bulb. 
Sometimes  several  men  held  a  single  tulip  in  shares. 
People  went  as  crazy  over  turban  flowers  as  I  have 
seen  them  during  the  Pennsylvania  petroleum  ex- 
citement, when  houses,  furniture,  food,  and  clothes 
were  sold 'at  a  sacrifice  for  "Slippery  Rock"  or 
other  oil  stock.  Ten  Dutch  cities  were  infected  with 
the  mania.  Grave  officers  and  citizens  deserted 
their  posts  to  engage  in  the  tulip  trade.  The  bubble 
burst  when  more  bulbs  were  daily  bought,  sold,  or 
exchanged  than  the  soil,  or  storehouses,  or  anything 
but  the  fancy  of  a  fool's  head,  could  contain.  The 
Dutch  still  love  this  child  of  the  Orient,  and  supply 
the  world  with  descendants  of  the  old  blood-red  Tu- 
lipa  Gesneriana,     The  manifold  varieties  of  bulbs, 


THE  FLORAL  CAPITAL  OF  EUROPE  33 

with  flowers  which  are  marvelous  in  their  flakings, 
featherings,  and  pencilings,  no  longer  depend  on 
lunatics  for  culture  and  appreciation.  One  gorgeous 
bloom  has  been  named  the  Abraham  Lincoln. 

Would  one  know  the  facts  and  figures  of  Tulipo- 
mania  ?  Let  him  scan  the  encyclopaedias.  In  fiction  ? 
He  must  read  Alexander  Dumas's  extravaganza, 
"The  Black  Tulip,"  which  tells  of  the  feud  between 
Van  Baerle  and  Boxtel  in  the  days  of  John  and  Cor- 
nelius DeWitt.  Lyra  once  read  me  this  and  othier 
romances  of  Dumas.  I  was  impressed  by  that  pas- 
sage which  tells  us  that  a  man  may  give  his  name  to 
a  child,  a  flower,  or  a  book.  I  am  not  certain  but 
that,  as  to  cultivated  flowers,  I  prefer  the  ways  of 
the  Japanese,  who  give  poetical  rather  than  per- 
sonal names  to  new  floral  varieties.  It  is  said  that 
the  tulip  is  a  man's  flower,  women  merely  liking  its 
vivid  beauty,  while  men  gaze  spellbound  over  the 
dazzling  dyes  seen  in  a  bed  of  them. 

None  of  these  standard  attractions,  let  me  say,  drew 
me  to  Haarlem  "by  first  intention,"  as  surgeons 
say.  I  wanted  to  see  the  ancestral  seats  of  the  set- 
tlers of  Manhattan  Island,  and  the  original  Haarlem, 
from  which  the  American  foolishly  drops  one  "  a." 
Amsterdam,  Haarlem,  and  Bloemendaal  were  near 
each  other  in  both  old  and  New  Netherland.  From 
Manhattan's  Bloomingdale,  anglicized  from  the  an- 
cient Dutch  Bloemendaal,  in  college  days  a  "rare 
and  radiant  maiden  "  and  a  Rutgers  College  student 
used  to  go  up  to  the  Harlem  of  Manhattan  Island. 
To-day  I  shall  see  the  original  seat  of  perfume  and 
beauty. 


34  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

From  Amsterdam  we  reach  the  city  of  types  and 
tulips  on  an  early  morning  in  mid-June.  The  train 
crosses  the  Spaarn  River,  which  flows  east  of  the 
dunes.  The  air  is  cool,  delicious,  electric,  after  the 
rainstorm  of  the  previous  evening. 

My  eyes  feast  on  an  ocean  of  color.  On  this  early 
June  morning  myriad  blooms  of  most  gorgeous  hue 
sparkle  with  innumerable  prismatics,  as  the  sun's 
rays  strike  the  dewdrops  on  their  petals.  Every- 
thing in  the  city  seems  shining,  polished,  and  as 
clean  as  Kioto.  I  pass  up  the  main  street,  and  into 
the  ancient  place  of  siege.  The  cross  streets  lead  to 
the  Groote  Kerk,  the  old  town's  cor  cordis^  heart  of 
hearts.  The  Great  Forest  Street  takes  one  to  the 
park  outside,  where  Coster  cut  his  wooden  types 
long  ago,  and  finding  the  sap-stain  on  the  paper, 
thought  of  printing  by  presses  without  pen  or  en- 
graver. Other  Dutch  cities  are  proud  of  their  moats, 
dockyards,  shipping,  arsenals,  or  commerce ;  Haar- 
lem, of  her  trees.  Soon  inside  the  old  "  gedempte," 
or  dumped-fuU  outermost  moat  of  the  old  town,  one 
is  at  the  ancient  centre  of  things. 

In  most  Dutch  towns  one  naturally  seeks  the 
source  of  water  supply  for  the  canal,  even  as  one 
inquires  for  the  supply  of  the  whole  country,  which 
is  a  sort  of  Egypt,  very  hollow  and  sandy,  —  the 
Rhine  for  the  province,  and  the  Spaarn  for  this  city. 
The  moats  once  mirrored  brave  walls  and  towers, 
but  now,  except  the  imposing  Amsterdam  gate,  re- 
flect only  peaceful  houses  and  gardens. 

Early  morning  is  the  green  room,  rather  than  the 
stage,  of  the  day's  business.     The  late  riser  may 


THE  FLORAL  CAPITAL  OF  EUROPE  35 

dwell  for  years  inside  of  a  city  and  never  know  how 
half  the  world  lives.  In  China,  for  example,  one 
might  argue  the  question  for  ages  as  to  the  preva- 
lence of  child-murder,  or  the  exposure  of  infants. 
He  would  never  see  how  sickly  babies  were  disposed 
of  unless  he  got  up  early,  and  saw  the  matutinal 
inferno,  the  dead  cart,  and  the  load  of  little  corpses 
dumped  in  the  grave-pits.  We  see  how  the  hard- 
working half  of  Haarlem  occupies  itself.  The  turf 
wagons  are  long,  narrow  affairs,  loaded  with  the  soil 
of  Drenthe  or  Over-Ijssel,  cut  and  dried  in  brick-like 
form,  or  shaped  like  old  Tycoon's  caps.  These  sun- 
dried  sods  are  burned  in  the  stoves,  —  porcelain  in 
the  parlor,  iron  in  the  kitchen.  The  milk-woman  is 
round  and  around,  with  her  brass-banded  pails  shin- 
ing like  gold,  with  her  white  painted  tubs  and  fir- 
kins. Modern  science  declares  itself,  in  new-fangled 
phrase,  on  push-carts  fresh  from  the  paint-shop  and 
floating  their  advertisements  of  "  bacteria-free  milk." 

This  is  the  country  of  contrasts.  Noise  and  silence 
are  in  alternation,  the  one  wounding,  the  other  poul- 
ticing the  ears.  Fat  Dutch  women  and  stalwart  men 
in  klomps  make  terrific  noise  as  they  scuffle  over 
the  pavements,  while  along  the  sidewalks  go  scores 
of  trades-folks  in  big  slippers.  Some  of  the  sabots 
are  so  big  and  clumsy  that  one  almost  imagines  the 
wearers  could  float  in  them  on  a  wet  day. 

The  dogs  are  amazingly  abundant,  but  few  of 
them  are  free.  True,  they  are  not  beasts  of  burden, 
but  rather  draught  animals.  They  are  harnessed 
underneath  the  vegetable  wagons,  push-carts,  and  all 
kinds  of  vehicles  for  the  delivery  of  milk,  turf,  and 


36  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

other  household  necessities.  Though  Belgium  excels 
Netherlands  in  the  figures  of  its  dog  census,  yet 
Holland  has  a  whole  army  of  harnessed  dogs  that 
earn  their  living.  Here  an  American  sees  what  the 
old  saying —  which  is  itself  only  one  of  hundreds  of 
Dutch  proverbs  about  these  friends  of  man  —  means, 
"  to  work  like  a  dog."  Nine  tenths  of  the  vehicles 
employed  in  this  country  are  moved  by  a  combina- 
tion of  traction  and  propulsion  by  four-footed  and 
two-legged  creatures.  The  dog  is  not  the  only  mo- 
tor. Carts  and  canal-boats  are  driven  or  drawn  by 
horses,  steam,  electricity,  wind,  woman,  man,  mule, 
and  small-boy  power,  as  I  have  seen. 

The  street  names  here,  as  in  every  land,  mirror 
history.  Of  course  we  have  the  usual  "butter," 
"  cheese,"  "  fish,"  and  "  meat "  streets,  correspond- 
ing to  the  physical  bases  of  life.  Then  come  those 
which  tell  where  the  mills  and  the  gardens  were, 
and  where  the  archers  and  arquebusiers,  the  gentry, 
the  knights,  and  the  lords  lived.  Other  old  avenues 
call  up  in  their  names  ghosts  of  monks,  nuns,  and 
their  numerous  cells  and  cloisters.  From  the  newer 
street-names,  one  may  judge  the  measure  of  popular- 
ity accorded  to  the  various  members  of  the  royal 
family  and  House  of  Orange. 

Historical  associations  cluster  richly  around  the 
open  market  square.  Within  the  great  church  of 
St.  Bavo  is  the  world-famed  organ,  and  in  the  lofty 
tower  a  carillon.  Rung  nightly  at  nine  o'clock,  the 
merry  bells  announce  not  the  curfew,  but  a  daily 
celebration  of  the  victory  won  on  the  Nile  centuries 
ago.     According  to  one  legend,  the  Haarlem  crusad- 


THE  FLORAL  CAPITAL  OF  EUROPE  37 

ers  at  Damietta  captured  the  Saracen  city  by  hav- 
ing in  the  sterns  of  their  ships  great  saws,  by  which 
they  cut  in  twain  the  iron  obstacles  under  the  water. 
As  in  our  civil  war  the  stern- wheelers  sawed  their 
way  into  and  through  swamps  along  the  Mississippi, 
so  the  Haarlemers  won  the  day.  According  to  an- 
other legend,  they  made  a  tower,  by  setting  up  four 
masts,  level  with  the  ramparts.  By  throwing  out  a 
boarding-scuttle  they  rushed  upon  the  walls,  and 
with  their  good  bright  swords  subdued  the  foe  and 
lowered  the  crescent  flag.  Inside  the  great  nave 
there  hung  for  centuries  models  of  these  Haarlem 
ships.  When  the  originals  fell  to  pieces,  they  were 
succeeded  by  the  present  little  craft  (now  pendent 
on  wires  from  the  ceilings),  which  seem  to  be  sailing 
through  the  air.  Like  a  great  wen  on  its  forehead, 
the  church  waU  has,  sticking  on  its  face,  a  Spanish 
cannon-ball  fired  during  the  siege,  —  a  memorial  of 
the  days  when  "  Better  Turk  than  Spaniard "  was 
the  cry. 

Opposite  the  great  cathedral  is  the  town  hall,  once 
the  home  of  Willem  and  other  counts  of  Holland. 
Many  of  the  interior  timbers  were  hewn  and  set  in 
1250  A.  D.,  though  the  edifice  was  remodeled  in 
1633. 

Alongside  of  it  is  the  Meat  House,  with  its  strik- 
ing architecture,  possibly  suggested  by  the  Saracen 
style,  —  brick  and  marble  in  successive  layers  of 
alternate  white  and  red.  It  is  the  model  followed 
by  the  architects  of  one  of  the  Collegiate  Reformed 
churches,  and  not  a  few  other  edifices  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  borough  of  Manhattan,  in  Greater  New 


38  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

York.  The  American  renaissance  of  Dutch  archi- 
tecture is  very  noticeable  in  this  last  decade  of 
our  century.  The  vulgar  call  this  the  "  zebra  "  or 
"  beefsteak  "  style,  —  a  strip  of  fat  and  a  strip  of 
lean.  When  used  as  a  house  of  meat,  for  the  body 
or  the  soul,  the  result,  in  the  hand  of  a  master, 
amply  justifies  itself. 

There  are  other  things  one  may  see  and  enjoy,  but 
to  the  cultured  tourist,  Haarlem  is  above  all  the  city 
of  Frans  Hals.  Of  the  two  great  painters  of  that 
name,  one  wrought  by  the  banks  of  the  Scheldt. 
The  younger  and  the  greater  lived  a  joyous  life  near 
the  Spaarn.  After  Rembrandt,  Frans  Hals  is  the 
greatest  colorist  in  that  long  line  of  painters  that 
adorn  Holland's  bead-roll.  The  father  was  born 
in  the  year  midway  between  the  birth  of  the  Dutch 
United  States  in  1579  and  their  Declaration  of  In- 
dependence in  1581.  The  son  had  already  entered 
upon  his  career  when  the  victorious  nation  had  won 
truce  and  recognition  from  Spain.  "  The  first  smile 
of  the  Republic  was  art."  The  best  works  of  the 
younger  Hals  are  here,  between  the  tulips  and  the 
sand  dunes. 

I  spend  a  morning  with  Frans  Hals  and  his  life- 
sized  figures  and  faces.  They  seem  so  real  that  one 
wants  to  step  up  and  shake  hands  with  the  debonair 
heroes.  These  are  the  civilians  and  soldiers  of  Hol- 
land's heroic  age.  So  hearty  and  hospitable  they 
look  that  they  appear  ready  to  talk  with  us,  yet,  do 
we  try  it,  silence  "pours  on  mortals  its  beautiful 
disdain." 

In  this  Haarlem  gallery,  as  at  those  at  the  Hague 


THE  FLORAL  CAPITAL  OF  EUROPE  39 

and  Amsterdam,  our  own  American  artists,  Allston, 
Vanderlyn,  Trumbull,  and  a  host  of  their  successors, 
have  studied  and  gained  inspiration.  Indeed,  All- 
stones  debt  to  Netherlandish  art  is  more  than  that 
of  a  student,  for  one  of  his  distant  ancestors  was 
Vanderhorst,  a  contemj)orary  of  Kubens.  Allston 
lavished  praise  upon  Ostade  for  his  mastery  of  the 
technique  of  light,  and  for  his  power  of  imagination, 
which  he  thought  quite  equaled  that  of  Raphael. 

*'  We  moderns  cannot  touch  these  masters,"  said 
my  fellow  passenger,  Charles  Stanley  Reinhart,  "  but 
in  their  affluence,  they  show  us  new  lines  of  endeavor, 
which  we  may  follow." 

Adrian  Ostade,  one  of  these  matchless  painters  of 
incidents  who  was  endlessly  interested  in  the  com- 
mon life  of  the  Dutch  people,  was  one  of  the  pupils 
of  Frans  Hals.  He  painted  novels  on  canvas.  His 
aim  in  life  was  to  depict  every-day  experience.  He 
developed  that  school  of  genre  painting  which  Ten- 
iers  founded.  In  the  days  before  modern  fiction, 
which  aims  not  to  portray  facts,  but  the  truth  of 
life  in  glow,  color,  and  movement,  these  artists  were 
the  novelists  of  their  time. 


CHAPTER  V 

A   SENTIMENTAL   TKIP  TO   BLOEMENDAAL 

Now  begins  our  sentimental  journey  to  Bloemen- 
daal.  Not  that  we  expect  to  find  anything  especially 
interesting  there,  but  because  of  the  sweet  memo- 
ries of  the  Bloomingdale  once  near  but  now  absorbed 
in  New  York,  we  visit  the  original  Vale  of  Flowers. 
We  take  the  coach  and  ride  due  north  through  the 
old  bleaching-grounds  and  past  the  fields  of  hya- 
cinths, tulips,  crocuses,  and  anemones  in  amazing 
variety  of  color.  One  must  come  in  April  or  May 
to  enjoy  the  delicious  perfumes  of  Dutch  flower 
farms,  but  even  on  June  days  their  beauty  is  almost 
overpowering.  Lovely  villas  and  charming  homes 
line  all  the  way. 

At  the  terminus  we  get  out  for  a  walk  behind  the 
dunes.  These  to-day  are  at  the  back  of  the  west 
wind.  Here  are  those  great  masses  of  century- 
tossed  sands,  looking  like  a  frozen  and  bleached 
ocean.  The  war  of  wind  and  wave  throughout  aeons 
has  piled  up  these  irregular  formations,  which  are 
the  defenses  furnished  by  Nature  against  the  sea. 
God,  in  spite  of  the  proverb,  did  help  to  make  this 
Dutch  land.  We  pass,  on  the  left,  the  lunatic  asy- 
lum with  its  well-cultivated  grounds,  and  soon  come 
within  sight  of  the  ruins  of  the  castle  of  the  illustri- 
ous family  of  Brederode. 


A  SENTIMENTAL  TRIP  TO  BLOEMENDAAL    41 

Here  is  a  relic  of  old  feudal  days.  The  structure 
dates  back  to  the  time  when  society  was  organized 
by  and  for  two  classes,  the  landed  and  the  landless. 
The  baron  and  the  bishop  lived  in  castle  and  palace 
with  their  retainers.  The  serfs  worked  the  soil,  but 
were  in  a  social  condition  little  above  that  of  slavery. 
The  Dutch,  having  no  rocks,  except  here  and  there 
a  chance  boulder  brought  down  by  glaciers  or  ice- 
bergs from  Scandinavia,  were  perforce  obliged  to 
rear  their  strongholds  out  of  baked  clay.  They  took 
their  native  soil,  divided  it  into  bits,  fired  these  to 
hardness  in  the  kiln,  and  piled  them  up  until  they 
made  foundation  walls,  towers,  gateways,  ramparts, 
and  keeps. 

Hence  the  striking  difference  of  material  in  Dutch 
castles  and  cathedrals,  as  compared  with  the  ma- 
sonry of  France,  Germany,  or  England.  A  stone 
castle  north  of  the  Waal  is  an  almost  unknown 
rarity.  Though  Holland  had  hundreds  of  feudal 
fortifications  and  some  of  them  of  great  architectu- 
ral beauty,  they  were  the  products  of  the  kiln  and 
not  of  the  quarry.  Well  moated  and  furnished  with 
drawbridges,  they  were  able  to  defy  the  ordinary 
attack  of  summer  enemies.  In  cold  winters  that 
which  was  usually  their  defense  often  became  a  solid 
highway  for  an  attacking  party.  Jack  Frost  could 
in  one  night  become  a  Pontifex  Maximus,  or  bridge- 
builder  of  the  first  class,  laying  a  pontoon  of  ice 
thick  enough  for  an  army  to  cross  over.  Yet  win- 
ter was  never  favorable  to  military  operations  in  the 
Middle  Ages,  and  sieges,  even  with  ice  as  an  ally, 
were  rarely  attempted. 


42  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

This  castle  of  Brederode  is  sufficiently  well  pre- 
served to  show  the  chief  features  of  mediaeval  de- 
fense. We  cross  the  moat  called  "  de  Kijn  "  (the 
Rhine)  and  stand  inside  the  fore-court,  which  we 
must  traverse  in  order  to  get  through  the  "  Binnen  " 
or  inside  gracht,  or  canal,  and  reach  the  main  in- 
closure  containing  chapel,  great  dining-hall,  the  resi- 
dence portion,  various  gates,  storehouses,  and  all 
that  belonged  to  the  economy  of  the  lord's  dwelling. 
From  the  breezy  tops  of  the  tower  we  can  look  out 
over  the  scenery  between  Brederode's  chateau  and 
the  city  of  Heer  Willem. 

The  Brederode  name  is  one  of  the  oldest  among 
the  Dutch  nobility.  It  first  appears  in  the  eleventh 
century.  Dirk,  the  oldest  son  of  Arnold  (Arnoud) 
of  Holland,  asked  of  his  father  that  Sicco,  the 
younger  of  his  two  nephews,  should  receive  the  por- 
tion of  his  inheritance  measured  with  broad  rods 
(hreede  roeden) ;  hence  the  name.  Thenceforth  for 
eight  centuries  flourished  an  illustrious  line  of  de- 
scendants, whose  achievements  concern  themselves 
not  only  with  politics  and  war,  but  also  with  litera- 
ture, religion,  and  art.  One  of  the  oldest  printed 
books  in  the  Dutch  language  is  a  literary  work  by 
Jan  van  Brederode,  who  had  traveled  in  Ireland, 
and,  returning,  built  a  chapel  in  honor  of  Saint 
Patrick  at  Zaandport,  just  north  of  Bloemendaal. 
After  taking  part  in  many  wars,  he  was  slain  at 
Agincourt  in  France  in  1415. 

English  readers  know  most  about  that  Brederode 
who  headed  the  deputation  of  the  nobles,  or  "  Beg- 
gars," as  Berlamont  called  them,  in  Brussels.     It 


A  SENTIMENTAL  TRIP  TO  BLOEMENDAAL    43 

was  he  who  proposed  and  first  wore  as  emblem  the 
beggar's  wooden  bowl,  with  cups  and  wallet.  He 
aspired  to  leadership  of  the  nation.  His  chief  quali- 
fications were  ancestral  pride,  a  love  of  wine,  and  a 
hatred  of  water  as  a  beverage.  Such  a  leader  sug- 
gested blindness  and  the  ditch.  He  was  a  failure, 
and  died  obscure  and  forgotten  in  Germany.  The 
Brederodes  became  extinct  in  this  century,  when 
Colonel  Hendrik  Lodewijk  Petrus  and  his  two  sons 
died,  the  last  on  the  3d  of  September,  1832.  Their 
dust  rests  in  the  little  church  of  Hillegom,  south 
of  Haarlem. 

The  romancers  and  dramatists  have  much  to  say 
about  the  Brederodes.  The  encyclopaedias  give  the 
facts.  Hofdijk  and  Van  Lennep  describe  their 
castles,  and  picture  in  word,  form,  and  color  their 
feudal  glory.  The  fringed  banneret  of  the  Brede- 
rodes was  of  scarlet  and  gold,  bearing  on  its  front 
the  lion  of  the  counts  of  Holland.  Their  first  castle 
built  on  this  spot  was  destroyed  by  Count  van  Loon 
in  1204,  and  the  second  by  the  Haarlem  "  Codfish  " 
partisans  in  1436.  Again  rebuilt  and  occupied  by 
the  family,  it  was  forsaken  when,  in  1472,  Brederode 
became  Lord  of  Vianen  on  the  Rhine.  Gradually 
this  old  home  dilapidated  into  the  desolation  we  now 
behold. 

I  enjoyed  greatly  my  first  Dutch  ruin,  thus  seen 
in  the  sunny  hours.  The  ground  plan  of  inner  and 
outer  court  and  moat,  hall,  and  chapel  is  easily 
traced.  Upon  the  battlements,  and  where  bedrooms 
had  been,  I  wondered  whether  these  mediaeval  lords, 
stout  fighters,    mighty   drinkers,  devout  crusaders, 


44  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

robed  in  fur  and  velvet,  with  ladies  in  satins  and 
jewels,  had  a  tithe  of  the  comforts  enjoyed  by 
either  the  mechanic  or  common  soldier  of  to-day. 
I  pictured  the  children  playing  here,  the  hawking 
parties  sallying  forth,  the  mirth  of  summer  serenade 
or  of  winter  night's  skating  on  the  moonlighted  moat, 
or  of  song,  jest,  story,  and  harper's  music  around 
the  great  hearth-fire,  the  forays  and  returns  of 
knights  and  men-at-arms  swathed  in  chain  mail  or 
plate  armor.  I  thought  of  the  sieges  and  sorties,  the 
blood  shed  and  the  torch  applied.  To-day  feudalism 
is  past ;  the  home  and  its  joys,  law  and  justice,  be- 
long to  all.  In  the  Middle  Ages  the  castle  as  well 
as  the  monastery  was  a  factor  in  civilization.  What 
was  then  exclusive  privilege  is  now  the  common 
man's  inheritance.  The  printer's  types,  the  rifle's 
leaden  arrow,  the  democracy  of  Christianity  have 
leveled  thrones,  castles,  and  cathedrals,  knight's 
pride,  and  priest's  craft. 

To-day  Brederode's  castle  is  but  the  side  attrac- 
tion of  a  restaurant.  I  sat  under  the  superb  old 
trees  and  sipped  Java  coffee  with  a  diminutive 
spoon,  served  with  a  tiny  jug  of  cream  and  three 
dominoes  of  beet-root  sugar,  dreaming  of  the  past 
and  of  the  two  Bloemendaals. 

Now  for  a  glance  at  Beverwijk,  or  Beaverville. 
The  beaver  is  no  longer  extant  in  Holland,  though 
numerously  in  its  nomenclature.  Its  name  is  joined 
to  the  syllables  "dam,"  "wijk,"  and  "hoek,"  in  a 
dozen  place-names  in  Netherlands  geography.  The 
brute  envied  for  its  fur  may  also  have  taught  the 
aboriginal  man  engineering.     As  a  dam  and  home 


A  SENTIMENTAL  TRIP  TO  BLOEMENDAAL    45 

builder,  employing  knife-like  teeth  for  cutting  down 
trees,  webbed  feet  for  mixing  and  building  in  water, 
and  a  trowel-like  tail  for  plastering  and  finishing, 
what  animal  more  worthy  of  commemoration  in 
Dutch  heraldry  ?  Yet  we  do  not  find  him  in  art. 
He  has  been  hunted  and  killed  off  in  North  Europe, 
as  the  bison  has  been  on  our  plains.  The  Dutch 
crossed  the  Atlantic  to  trade  for  beaver  even  as  the 
Puritans  came  to  catch  fish  and  the  Cavaliers  to 
cultivate  tobacco. 

The  beaver  in  those  days  covered  men's  heads, 
not  women's  shoulders.  The  Indians  called  the 
whites,  "men  with  hats  on."  In  their  wampum, 
they  pictured  in  beads  the  warrior  who  wore  a 
scalp-lock  and  the  white  trader  who  roofed  his  head 
with  a  beaver  skin. 

In  New  Netherland  the  glossy  pelts  became  cur- 
rency, and  on  the  seal  of  the  province  is  a  beaver 
in  token  of  the  new-found  wealth.  On  the  "  arms  " 
of  the  city  of  New  Amsterdam,  the  New  York  of 
to-day,  besides  windmill,  sails,  and  flour  barrels,  is 
this  same  animal.  The  first  large  Dutch  settlement, 
where  Albany  now  stands,  was  named  Beverwijk, 
after  this  ancient  wijh  in  the  Fatherland.  It  lay  in 
a  country  rich  in  the  four-footed  makers  of  dams. 
The  practiced  eye  in  the  Mohawk  valley  of  to-day 
discerns  numerous  old  beaver  settlements  as  easily 
as  a  geologist  recognizes  glacier  moraines.  As  an 
emblem  of  patience,  and  of  that  perseverance  which 
conquers  all,  the  beaver  was  printed  on  the  money 
issued  by  the  Continental  Congress. 

Beverwijk,  the  old  and  original,  has  on  its  arms 


46  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

lions  of  heraldic  shape.  These  are  set  under  three 
fleurs-de-lis,  laid  on  the  upper  half  of  a  shield  which 
is  grasped  on  either  side  by  a  nude  angel,  who 
stands  inside  of  and  holds  the  open  curtain  of  a 
canopy. 

What  chiefly  interests  us  in  the  quiet  little  village 
is  the  church,  with  pillars  and  arches  of  the  thir- 
teenth century.  Stone  tower  and  wooden  spire  rise 
above  a  porch  with  entrance  in  Doric  style.  In  the 
frieze  we  read  the  sweet  benison :  "  The  Lord  shall 
preserve  thy  going  out  and  thy  coming  in  from  this 
time  forth,  and  even  for  evermore."  Inside  one  sees 
at  once  the  close  resemblance  between  this  house 
of  worship  and  the  church  edifices  in  early  Dutch 
America.  Pulpit,  precentor's  desk,  and  lecturn, 
pews,  aisles,  curtains,  arrangements  for  light,  collec- 
tion bags  hung  on  the  wall,  benches  for  elders  and 
deacons  of  the  Consistory,  are,  in  plan  and  details, 
about  the  same  as  were  those  in  Beverwijk-on- 
Hudson  and  in  the  Dorp  on  the  Mohawk.  In  the 
belfry  still  hangs  a  bell  cast  in  1733,  by  the  same 
makers  and  in  the  same  foundry  as  that  which  from 
1733  to  1848  summoned  the  people  of  Schenectady 
to  Sabbath  devotions.  Here  in  Holland  we  read : 
"Nicoleus  Muller,  Amsterdam,  me  Fecit  Anno 
1733." 

The  old  Schenectady  church  bell  was  purchased 
after  a  subscription,  by  152  persons,  of  <£45  6s.  6d., 
mounted  in  1734,  cracked  in  1848,  recast  in  Troy, 
rehung,  and  melted  in  the  fire  of  1860  (which  Lyra 
saw  and  remembers  well).  On  it  was  one  inscrip- 
tion in  Dutch,  "  The  bell  of  the  Low  Dutch  congre- 


STALL  CARVINGS   IN   ST.   MARTIN'S  CHURCH,    BOLSWARD 


A  SENTIMENTAL  TRIP  TO  BLOEMENDAAL    47 

gation  of  Schenectady  (Schenechtiade)  procured 
by  themselves  in  the  year  1732."  Another  in 
Latin  reads :  "  Me  f ecerunt  De  Grave  et  MuUer, 
Amsterdam." 

The  American  bell  was  the  older  of  the  two. 
Evidently,  also,  Nicoleus  MuUer  took  a  partner  after 
casting  the  bell  for  the  church  in  what  was  then 
called,  "  the  far  west "  of  America. 

There  was  a  pretty  legend  current  in  "  Old  Dorp  " 
on  the  Mohawk,  which  I  often  heard.  When  in 
the  mother-land  the  molten  metal  was  nearly  ready 
to  pour  into  the  mould,  there  came  many  friends 
and  acquaintances  in  Amsterdam  of  those  in  the 
American  frontier  church,  and  cast  into  the  great 
crucible  silver  cups,  spoons,  dishes,  and  trinkets  as 
mementos,  with  prayers  for  the  kin  beyond  sea. 
Certainly  the  old  bell  sounded  very  sweetly  to  the 
aged  people  who  told  me  of  its  silvery  notes.  An- 
other story  is  that  a  twin-sister  bell,  cast  by  MuUer 
in  Amsterdam  about  the  same  time,  was  hung  in 
Kaughnawaga  or  Fonda ;  captured  by  the  Indians, 
it  was  taken  to  Canada  and  rehung  in  a  French 
convent.  Travelers  from  the  Mohawk  valley  in  the 
Dominion  quickly  recognized  its  note.  * 

t  learn  from  a  book  of  "  Antiquities  of  North 
Holland  "  that  on  the  bell  at  old  Beverwijk,  besides 
a  rand-schri/t,  or  rim  inscription,  is  a  four-line  stanza 
with  the  names  of  burgomaster,  aldermen,  domine, 
churchmaster,  and  sexton.  The  predik-stoel^  or  pul- 
pit, is  embossed  with  Scripture.  On  the  floors  and 
walls  are  the  usual  memorials  of  departed  glory. 
The  tomb  of  the  Harencarspel  family,  under  the 


48  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

organ,  with  eagles,  weeping  figures,  symbols  of  the 
four  evangelists,  and  festoons  made  of  coats  of  arms, 
is  unusually  fine. 

This  finishes  our  first  tour  in  Kennemer  land,  — 
the  region  behind  the  dunes,  and  the  portion  of  Hol- 
land most  closely  associated  with  Manhattan  Island 
in  the  seventeenth  century,  and,  indeed,  with  Amer- 
ican colonization  by  the  Dutch.  I  have  looked  on 
many  of  the  mossy  marbles  and  time-eaten  grave- 
stones in  the  cemeteries  of  Amsterdam  and  the 
towns  near  by.  The  names  are  those  of  neighbors 
and  old  acquaintances.  As  my  friend  Asa  Gray, 
the  botanist,  found  variations  of  feature  between 
floral  ancestors  and  their  descendants,  so,  except  for 
slight  changes  in  spelling,  the  epitaphs  and  names 
of  Holland  families  in  America  resemble  those  in 
the  Fatherland. 


CHAPTER  VI 
IN  THE  EGMONT  COUNTRY 

Mediaeval  maps  of  Alkmaar  show  the  old  city 
lying  at  the  edge  of  the  Schir-meer,  or  lake,  and  in 
place  of  the  primeval  pagan  shrine,  a  Christian 
church  with  an  abbey  near  by.  In  the  tenth  cen- 
tury Alkmaar  was  the  chief  city  in  Kennemer 
land,  with  a  castle  and  the  abbey  of  Egmond  not 
far  away.  So  early  as  1143  it  had  a  mint  and 
coined  money.  Of  even  more  enduring  value  than 
old  Alkmaar's  gold  and  silver,  now  vanished  except 
an  occasional  relic,  have  been  the  chronicles  written 
by  the  monks.  For  these  all  historians  are  perpet- 
ually grateful,  for  they  form  the  chief  fountain  of 
North  Netherlandish  story. 

In  a  word,  this  is  a  classic  soil,  seat  of  the  city, 
castle,  seaport,  and  monastery  of  the  Egmonds, — 
one  of  the  oldest  and  most  illustrious  families  of  the 
Netherlands.  The  name,  from  Engen  mond^  mean- 
ing narrow  mouth,  refers,  it  is  said,  to  the  oldest 
ancestral  seat  near  some  branch  of  the  Rhine,  which, 
with  small  aperture,  emptied  into  the  sea.  The 
name  of  that  Count  Egmont  who  in  youth,  beauty, 
and  plenitude  of  fame,  fell  victim  on  the  scaffold  to 
the  jealous  hatred  of  Alva  and  the  cruel  perfidy  of 
Philip  II.,  glorified  in  art  and  the  drama  and  by  the 


60  THE  AMERICAN  IN   HOLLAND 

pens  of  Schiller  and  Motley,  and  set  in  enduring 
marble  in  Brussels,  is  but  one  on  a  long  and  lus- 
trous roll.  Warriors,  statesmen,  and  scholars  of  the 
Egmont  line  shine  on  the  pages  of  Dutch  history 
during  eight  centuries. 

Securing  a  carriage,  Lyra  and  I  rode  out  to 
Egmond-op-den-Hoef,  that  is,  Egmond-on-the-Farm, 
where  once  rose  lofty  and  lordly  towers,  square  and 
round,  against  the  blue  sky.  On  the  surface  of  the 
wide  moat  were  mirrored  crow-stepped  gables,  pointed 
roofs,  windows,  portholes,  and  square-topped  walls. 
The  massive  structure  was  L-shaped.  At  the  north, 
on  a  little  island,  were  the  stables  and  stores  of  fod- 
der, the  other  areas  containing  the  numerous  build- 
ings which  fronted  on  two  open  courts.  The  walls 
were  from  three  to  five  feet  thick.  A  stone  bridge 
with  three  arches  crossed  the  moat  opposite  the  en- 
trance. On  two  pinnacles,  between  the  front  main 
towers,  sat  two  lions  holding  the  shield  of  Egmond, 
while  higher  in  the  air  floated  the  red  and  gold  ban- 
ner. Van  Lannep  and  Hofdijk,  in  their  beautifully 
illustrated  book  on  the  noteworthy  castles  in  Neder- 
land,  give  plan,  picture,  and  arms.  First  upreared 
and  encircled  with  water  in  1307,  often  attacked, 
fired,  and  rebuilt,  this  castle  was,  during  the  Dutch 
and  Spanish  war,  wholly  destroyed. 

What  we  actually  saw  was  no  more  than  a  mor- 
sel of  the  old  burg.  A  bit  of  a  corner,  a  fragment 
of  brick  wall  eight  or  ten  feet  high  and  less  in  its 
other  dimensions,  stood  in  a  dry  field  amid  stubble. 
Yet  this  scanty  token  appealed  to  the  imagination. 

I  asked  the  driver  to  take  me  to  the  ruined  abbey 


IN  THE  EGMONT  COUNTRY  61 

church  where  some  of  the  counts  of  Holland  lie  in 
dust,  and  to  point  out  the  site  of  the  cloisters  where 
the  Benedictine  monks,  a  thousand  years  ago,  began 
writing  Netherland's  annals.  Our  Dutch  Jehu  was 
neither  interested  nor  informed.  In  the  village  I 
began  questioning  the  natives,  one  of  whom,  a  boer 
with  intelligent  face,  immediately  led  me  off  the 
main  street  into  a  lane.  Then,  showing  me  a  line 
of  houses  with  gardens  and  stables  inside  a  brick 
inclosure,  he  said,  in  very  English-like  Dutch,  "  Dat 
is  de  klooster  waal." 

To  such  use  had  the  historic  remnant  come! 
Founded  by  Dirk  I.,  Count  of  Holland,  and  first 
built  of  wood  in  A.  D.  889,  the  abbey  was  fired  by 
the  pagan  Frisians,  but  under  Dirk  II.,  it  was  re- 
erected  in  brick.  Many  a  famous  abbot  ruled  here. 
Terrific  were  the  struggles  of  ambition  and  for 
power  between  counts  and  bishops,  dukes  and  popes. 
The  library  of  manuscripts  and  printed  books  gath- 
ered within  its  walls  was  very  large  for  the  age. 
When,  in  1576,  it  became  a  centre  of  reaction  and 
danger  to  the  patriot  cause  in  the  war  of  independ- 
ence, the  furious  iconoclasts  gave  its  precious  trea- 
sures to  the  flames.  Fortunately,  the  cloister  annals 
had  been  copied  and  preserved  elsewhere. 

Amid  the  grunt  of  pigs  I  pictured  to  myself  the 
cowled  brethren  listening  to  crusader,  knight,  trav- 
eler, or  survivor  of  some  Norse  massacre,  shipwreck, 
or  sea-flood,  as  these  told  their  stories,  and  then  writ- 
ing these  out  for  posterity.  Thanks  to  the  old 
cell-brothers  !  Our  age  no  longer  needs  them,  but 
how  could  the  Middle  Ages  have  done  without  them  ? 


52  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Their  literary  equipment  consisted  of  a  goose-quill, 
an  ink-horn,  dressed  pigskin,  and  an  oak  desk. 
Their  Latin  was  not  unexceptionable.  Their  Dutch 
was  rude,  but  these  cloister  annalists  were  the  first 
historiographers  of  the  nation. 

From  Egmond  Binnen  we  rode  seaward  over  to 
the  Egmond-aan-Zee,  or  Egmond-on-Sea,  where  was 
a  sort  of  embrasure  in  the  mountainous  sand  walls 
that  form  the  defenses  of  North  Holland,  —  the 
only  gate  or  pass  in  the  sand  mountains  between  the 
Helder  and  Wijk-aan-Zee  near  Beverwijk.  We 
found  a  little  fishing  village  and  a  summer  hotel 
where  picnic  folk  from  Alkmaar  could  obtain  bread, 
steaks,  cheese,  and  beer.  An  Englishman,  in  the 
crowd  of  men  who  stood  around  swathed  in  woolen 
and  shod  in  wood,  lamented  the  decay  of  the  fish- 
eries here,  telling  us  that  instead  of  the  seventy  or 
eighty  "  bums  "  which  the  village  owned  within  his 
time,  not  more  than  a  dozen  remained  now.  I  had 
to  ask  him  to  define  the  term  "  bum,"  though  I  im- 
agined the  word  to  be  the  same  as  in  bumboat,  or 
bumbarge,  which  we  have  borrowed  from  the  Dutch. 
All  will  remember  Carlyle's  use  of  the  word  in  his 
"  Chartism." 

Egmond-aan-Zee  had  its  glorious  age  in  the  four- 
teenth century,  when  the  abbey,  tower,  port,  and 
lordship  were  all  blooming  like  the  tulips  of  later 
time,  and  riches  came  from  soil  and  sea.  Here, 
within  sound  of  the  waves,  were  founded  not  a  few 
famous  families.  Their  names  fill  the  Dutch  annals 
of  valor  and  learning,  and,  though  in  much  altered 
forms,  may  be  read  on  American  doorplates.     To 


IN  THE  EGMONT  COUNTRY  53 

this  seaside  village,  from  Germany,  came  and  labored 
Domine  van  Mekelenburg,  whose  learned  son  Hellen- 
ized  his  name  into  Megapolensis,  and  came  to  Amer- 
ica in  1642.  He  preached  the  gospel  to  the  Mohawk 
Indians  as  well  as  to  the  Dutch  emigrants.  He 
watched  over  the  infancy  of  the  colony  of  New 
Netherland,  and  saw  its  surrender.  His  literary 
friend,  Domine  Selyns,  wrote  his  epitaph.  Both 
were  among  our  first  American  men  of  letters. 

We  rode  down  near  the  lighthouse  to  see  the 
colossal  lion,  ever  looking  seaward  and  sentinel-like, 
symbolizing  the  bravery  of  the  young  hero.  Van 
Speyk,  who  at  Antwerp,  in  1831,  blew  up  his  ship 
rather  than  surrender.  In  temperament  wonder- 
fully like  our  own  Gushing  of  Albemarle  fame,  Jan 
Carel  Josephus  van  Speyk,  born  in  Amsterdam  in 
1802,  was  educated  in  the  orphan  house.  He  began 
to  follow  the  sea  at  eighteen,  voyaging  to  the  West 
Indies.  Entering  the  navy  and  serving  five  years 
as  a  lieutenant,  he  was  decorated  for  his  bravery 
in  the  Belgian  war  of  1830,  and  given  command  of 
a  gunboat.  Driven  ashore  in  a  storm  in  1831,  and 
surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  Belgians  in  boats,  he 
fired  his  pistol  into  the  magazine,  blowing  himself, 
his  friends  and  foes,  and  his  unlowered  flag  high 
into  the  air.  A  fragment  of  his  corpse  was  laid  to 
rest  under  his  monument  in  the  New  Church  in 
Amsterdam  near  the  dust  of  De  Euyter  and  other 
admirals.  I  have  seen  his  sword  and  relics  rever- 
ently preserved  in  his  orphan  childhood's  home.  It 
was  the  frigate  Van  Speyk  that  was  sent  to  join  in 
the  Columbian  quadri-centennial  in  New  York  city 
and  bay  in  1893. 


54  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Before  returning  to  Alkmaar  we  visited  something 
more  ancient  than  the  Egmont  name.  The  story  of 
Frisian  Christianity  is  inseparably  connected  with 
the  name  of  Wilfrid,  who,  educated  at  York,  sailed 
for  Eome,  and  was  driven  by  contrary  winds  on  this 
coast.  He  preached  here  the  gospel  in  the  seventh 
century,  when  no  interpreters  were  needed.  After- 
ward a  synod  was  held  at  Austerfield,  in  A.  D.  702, 
which  deposed  and  excommunicated  him,  but  he  re- 
gained the  favor  of  his  superiors.  It  was  in  the 
little  Norman  church  of  St.  Wilfrid  that  William 
Bradford,  the  future  Pilgrim  Father  and  Governor 
of  New  Plymouth,  was  baptized  in  1590.  He  also 
on  crossing  the  sea,  had  stormy  experiences.  After 
Wilfrid  came  Wilbrord  and  Boniface,  making  a 
trio  of  "  Apostles  of  the  Frisians  "  and  pioneers  of 
Dutch  Christianity.  Wilbrord  enjoys  most  fame  in 
popular  tradition.  He  is  commemorated  in  art  all 
over  the  kingdom,  from  Flushing  to  Dokkum,  where 
his  successor  was  martyred. 

We  meet  Wilbrord 's  statue  or  picture  in  every 
Catholic  church,  and  hail  him  on  bas-reliefs  over  the 
doors.  November  6  is  his  great  festal  day.  The 
cloister  carvings  in  stone,  at  Utrecht,  represent  him 
busily  engaged  in  cutting  down  the  trees  sacred  to 
pagan  deities.  Many-tongued  legend  recounts  his 
wonderful  works.  Evidently  he  was  more  fond  of 
pure  cold  water  than  the  Egmonts  or  Brederodes. 
We  find  Saint  Wilbrord's  wells  in  Walcheren,  but 
here  at  Heilo  is  the  most  famous  put^  or  well,  of  all. 
It  lies  back  of  the  village  church,  protected  by  hand- 
some open  iron-work.     We  taste  the  water.     It  is 


IN  THE  EGMONT  COUNTRY  55 

not  equal  to  Cochituate,  Croton,  or  Schuylkill ;  but, 
after  a  millennium,  who  expects  nectar  ? 

The  golden  afternoon  sunlight  bathed  the  land- 
scape and  helped  imagination  to  summon,  out  of 
the  oblivion  of  a  thousand  years,  the  work  of  this 
good  servant  of  that  Christ  who  first  announced  his 
personality  and  mission  to  a  woman,  while  sitting  at 
the  well-curb  in  Samaria.  Wilbrord,  a  Saxon,  was 
born  A.  D.  657,  in  Northumbria,  in  England,  and 
spent  thirteen  years  in  Ireland  in  study  under  those 
wonderful  Irish  missionaries  who  once  filled  Europe 
with  gospel  light.  Two  of  them,  Egbert  and  Wi- 
bert,  had  been  in  Frisia,  preaching  in  vain  during 
two  years.  Wilbrord  not  only  learned  Frisian,  but 
went  on  his  mission  forearmed.  He  toiled  for  the 
bodies  and  souls  of  the  Frisians,  and  grandly  suc- 
ceeded. Not  to  know  about  Wilbrord  is,  when  in 
Holland,  at  least,  to  argue  one's  self  unknown,  and 
thus  lose  much  enjoyment  when  amid  Dutch  art  and 
ecclesiastical  history. 

Driving  homeward  with  stimulated  imagination 
and  nerves  tingling  with  the  delicious  coolness  of 
the  sweet  air,  we  came  suddenly  to  a  standstill. 
Our  own  heavy  two-horse  chariot  and  a  light  and 
low  team  had  come  into  collision.  A  big  Dutch- 
man, whip  in  hand  and  mounted  on  a  box  set  up 
on  wheels  and  drawn  by  four  dogs,  was  most  rap- 
turously illustrating  the  glory  of  motion.  Which 
Jehu  was  to  blame,  I  should  not  be  willing  to  de- 
cide, but  within  ten  ticks  of  the  watch  the  brick 
road  was  strewn  with  howling  dogs  and  the  debris 
of  timber  and  harness.     The  two-legged  creatures 


56  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

immediately  began  swearing  at  each  other  in  Dutch. 
Fortunately,  the  war  ended  in  words  only.  The 
total  losses  were  a  shaft  and  portion  of  one  dog's 
hair  and  cuticle,  lacquer  from  one  wheel-spoke  of 
our  carriage,  and,  on  the  part  of  both  drivers,  tem- 
per. Despite  bits  in  their  mouths,  one  cannot  steer 
curs  as  safely  as  horses,  and  in  this  fact,  probably, 
lies  the  philosophy  of  the  collision. 

Certainly,  the  trouble  could  not  have  arisen  be- 
cause of  any  misunderstanding  of  the  law  of  the 
road.  British  folk  turn  to  the  left,  Dutch  and 
Americans  to  the  right.  In  all  the  British  colonies, 
except  those  founded  on  the  Atlantic  coast,  the  rule 
was  and  is  "  to  the  left."  Because  of  misunder- 
standings and  divers  inheritances,  there  have  been 
many  collisions  on  land,  and,  as  I  remember,  the 
sinking  of  the  U.  S.  S.  Oneida  man-of-war  by  the 
mail  steamer  Bombay  in  the  Bay  of  Yedo. 

Why  the  exception  in  America  ?  Numerous  and 
long  have  been  the  controversies  and  theories  put 
forward  to  account  for  the  patent  fact.  The  expla- 
nation nearest  to  hand  seems  to  lie  in  this,  that  the 
Dutch  rule  has  always  been,  "  Turn  to  the  right, 
as  the  law  directs."  For  centuries  that  law  has 
been  written  in  municipal  ordinances,  as  in  those  of 
Amsterdam  dated  April  7,  1663.  In  other  places 
the  custom  is  older  than  law  in  script.  The  Pil- 
grims who  lived  eleven  years  in  Holland  simply  fol- 
lowed in  New  England  what  one  of  them,  Bradford, 
calls  "  The  Laudable  custom  of  the  Low  Countries." 
In  this,  as  in  so  many  things,  they  set  as  the  prece- 
dent to  New  England  the  law  to  which  they  had 


IN  THE  EGMONT  COUNTRY  57 

been  already  accustomed  in  Holland.  In  the  Mid- 
dle States  the  people  followed  the  ancestral  prece- 
dent in  Patria.  In  Virginia  the  custom  came  in 
when  the  code  of  "  Lawes  Divine,  Morall,  and  Mar- 
tiall,"  based  on  that  formed  by  the  Dutch  govern- 
ment for  the  republican  army  of  Maurice,  was  intro- 
duced by  Sir  Thomas  Dale. 


CHAPTER  VII 

CHARMING   LITTLE   ZAANDIJK 

Kennemer  Land  stretches  along  the  coast  of 
North  Holland  from  Haarlem  to  Alkmaar  and  be- 
yond. The  name  is  a  reminiscence  of  the  ancient 
days  when  the  old  Kin-heim  meer,  or  the  '*  sea  "  of 
Kinheim,  filled  much  of  this  whole  region. 

Just  north  and  west  of  Amsterdam  there  is  Zaan- 
land,  a  region  wherein  are  many  names  ending  or 
beginning  with  Zaan,  which  "  lost  to  sight "  in 
canals  is  "  to  memory  dear "  on  mediaeval  maps. 
Here  is  Zaandam,  known  all  over  the  world  as  the 
place  where  the  greatest  of  the  Muscovites  began  to 
learn  his  trade  as  carpenter,  or — what  the  word 
carpenter  originally  meant  —  shipwright.  To  the 
east  is  Oostzaan,  further  up  is  Koog-aan-de-Zaan, 
toward  the  North  Sea  is  Westzaan.  StiU  further 
north  is  Zaandijk,  whither  I  wend  my  way. 

I  was  invited  by  a  quondam  ship-passenger,  a 
physician,  whose  society  at  sea  I  had  greatly  enjoyed, 
to  come  into  this  region  and  ancient  valley,  rich  in 
windmills.  Once  a  wide  natural  stream,  the  Zaan 
River  is  now  a  settled-down  old  canal.  Taking  the 
Alkmaar  packet,  a  trim  little  steamer,  from  the  pier 
behind  the  great  Central  Station  below  the  Bible 
Hotel,  in   Amsterdam,   I   started   off  on  the   cool 


CHARMING  LITTLE  ZAANDIJK  59 

morning,  in  the  loveliest  of  the  months,  —  June  28. 
The  glistening  tile  roofs,  gayly  painted  houses,  fields 
fuU  of  mustard  flowers,  yellow  enough  for  the  Em- 
peror of  China,  and  a  lavish  use  of  bright  colors 
generally,  seemed  to  show  how  necessary  it  is  in 
this  land  of  dull  sky  and  chronic  damp  weather  to 
offset  the  general  grayness  of  nature  with  bright 
hues. 

I  was  met  on  the  landing-stage  at  Zaandijk  by 
the  doctor,  who  had  come  to  those  "years  which 
bring  the  philosophic  mind,"  as  well  as  to  a  general 
mellowness  of  spirit  and  judgment.  He  led  me  up 
the  narrow  little  way  to  the  main  thoroughfare, 
which  consisted  of  a  canal  with  many  bridges. 
There  was  a  pavement  for  wagons  on  one  side,  with 
a  diminutive  sidewalk  along  the  one-storied  houses 
which  seemed  to  have  been  dipped  in  paint-pots. 
Outside  of  the  land  of  Colorado  beetles,  it  seemed 
to  me  as  if  I  never  had  seen  so  much  Paris  green 
on  bridges,  fences,  doors,  windows,  and  walls.  The 
trees  were  clipped  because,  except  heavenward,  there 
is  no  room  for  them  to  grow. 

The  doctor's  house,  by  the  canal,  was  large, 
handsome,  and  modern,  with  wide  halls,  high-ceiled 
rooms,  and  imposing  stairways  and  furniture.  The 
walls  were  lined  with  trophies  of  travel  and  proofs 
of  both  wealth  and  taste.  Besides  holding  an  offi- 
cial appointment,  the  doctor  owned  a  cheese  farm, 
and  counted  his  cows  by  the  score.  There  was  a 
general  atmosphere  of  plain  but  rich  living  and 
high  thinking  about  his  home,  such  as  I  have  found 
among  the  Philadelphia  Friends,  —  those  spiritual 


60  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

cousins  to  the  followers  of  Menno  Simons,  —  whom 
the  world  calls  Quakers. 

After  greetings  and  chat  in  the  family  circle,  we 
sallied  forth  to  see  the  sights  of  this  miniature  city. 
Zaandijk  has  its  coat  of  arms,  its  town  hall,  and  a 
long  history.  On  September  21,  1894,  the  people 
celebrated  the  fourth  centennial  aniversary  of  the 
town.  Some  one,  the  doctor  explained,  had  found 
an  old  perTcament  (parchment),  which  told  how 
the  first  dam  and  house  were  built  here  in  1494. 
The  Dutch  delight  in  festivals,  with  fine  dressing 
and  good  eating,  nor  do  they  ever  neglect  an  oppor- 
tunity of  celebrating  something.  So  the  Zaandijk- 
ers  got  out  old  costumes,  and  renewed,  for  the  nonce, 
ancient  customs. 

Two  boats,  modeled  after  the  Venetian  gondolas 
of  the  fifteenth  century,  were  built  for  the  occa- 
sion and  put  to  use.  In  the  doctor's  youth  these 
old  gondolas,  or  trek-schuits,  were  still  used  for 
travel,  transportation,  love-making,  and  church-go- 
ing. Even  now  the  canal,  with  its  many  high-arched 
bridges,  suggests  Venice  itself.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
many  details  of  life  in  the  little  confederacy  behind 
the  dikes  were  copied  or  imported  from  that  south- 
ern republic  which  stood  on  piles  in  the  lagoons. 
Both  amphibious  peoples  were  fond  of  republicanism 
and  of  bright  hues,  and  from  among  them  sprang 
artists  who  lead  the  world  as  colorists. 

As  we  were  talking,  a  boat  laden  with  garden 
produce  and  propelled  by  a  truck  farmer,  who  ped- 
dled his  commodities  along  the  way  at  the  different 
houses  by  the  water's  edge,  brought  up  a  vision  of 


CHARMING  LITTLE  ZAANDIJK  61 

the  manner  in  which  one  of  the  greatest  of  Ameri- 
can fortunes  was  initiated  in  the  hills  on  and  off 
Staten  Island. 

We  walked  to  the  tiny  museum  founded  in  this 
town  long  ago  by  Mynheer  Jacob  Honig.  His  name 
suggests  sweets,  and  his  coat  of  arms  very  appropri- 
ately is  embroidered  with  bees.  From  his  youth  he 
enjoyed  collecting  things  old,  curious,  and  obsolete. 
Whatever  had  been  stranded  by  fashion  and  left, 
as  "  dead  fact  ...  on  the  shores  of  the  oblivious 
years,"  was  his  delight  and  quest.  He  made  a  curi- 
osity shop  which  illustrates  local  and  social  history 
in  epitome.  Here  is  a  model  of  the  first  windmill 
erected  in  Zaandam.  It  stood  in  the  water,  and  had 
to  be  towed  round  and  round  by  a  boat  in  order  to 
make  the  sails  face  the  wind.  Later  on,  the  mill 
was  set  on  a  post,  and  the  whole  structure  turned 
upon  this  as  an  axis,  as  in  a  revolving  library.  Still 
later  the  edifice  was  made  to  revolve  from  the  bot- 
tom, like  a  monitor's  turret.  Finally,  the  compara- 
tively modern  Dutch  invention  of  a  cap,  holding  the 
axle  and  sails  with  cog-wheel  and  spindle  inside  and 
easily  moved  from  below  by  a  hand  wheel  and  wind- 
lass, secured  the  proper  frontage  at  will. 

As  for  the  modern  windmills,  —  they  say  there 
are  twelve  thousand  in  Netherland,  —  even  though 
one  can  still  see  battalions  of  them  deployed  along 
the  canals  and  over  against  the  horizon,  their  days 
are  numbered.  Already  they  are  much  less  numer- 
ous than  fifty  years  ago.  A  new  one  is  rarely  if 
ever  built,  since  steam  is  more  to  be  depended  upon 
than  wind.     No  more  as  of  yore  will  there  be  law- 


62  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

suits,  as  between  the  Lord  of  Woerst  and  the  Over- 
Ijssel  monastery,  as  to  who  owns  the  wind  and  has 
a  right  to  use  it.  The  old  feudal  master  claimed 
that  he  owned  Boreas,  and  all  his  breath  that 
blew  over  his  fields,  as  well  as  Neptune  and  all  his 
puddles.  The  suit  was  referred  to  the  Bishop  of 
Utrecht,  who  decided  in  favor  of  the  lord.  Even 
the  hundred  proverbs  that  stick  to  the  subject,  as 
barnacles  to  a  ship,  will  soon  bear  the  flavor  of 
mythology. 

In  the  old  days  of  inundation  and  heavy  rains, 
the  water  lay  upon  the  land  so  long  that  malaria 
and  sickness  were  often  epidemic  and  continuous. 
Since  the  use  of  steam  power,  which  can  raise  water 
and  saw  wood,  even  when  Boreas  refuses  to  blow, 
the  flooded  areas  have  been  quickly  pumped  dry. 
Improved  health  is  everywhere  the  result. 

The  museum  shows  a  schoolmaster's  implement  of 
correction,  the  hlap^  with  which,  during  a  century  or 
two,  small  boys  were  spanked ;  also  the  little  stoves 
once  used  to  warm  the  feet  of  wives  and  maidens  in 
church,  —  almost  exactly  like  the  same  contrivances 
still  used  for  hands  in  Japan. 

Zaandijk  once  derived  great  wealth  from  its  fish- 
eries. The  whale  also  brought  comfort  to  many 
homes  and  prosperity  to  the  city.  Its  oil  filled  the 
lamps  and  cheered  the  soap-maker.  Its  "bone" 
gave  steadiness  to  unstable  busts.  Here  are  pictures 
of  the  oil  refineries,  and  of  ships  and  boats  home 
from  the  Arctic  Sea.  The  whale  has  had  a  mighty 
influence  upon  the  civilization  of  Holland,  of  the 
United  States,  and  upon  Japan.     First  the  English 


CHARMING  LITTLE  ZAANDIJK  63 

and  then  the  Yankee  borrowed  the  idea  of  whale- 
hunting  from  the  Dutch.  The  whale  was  our  pilot 
into  the  Pacific.  The  skeleton  of  one  of  these  great 
mammals  hangs  from  the  museum's  ceiling. 

The  crockery  of  Zaandijk  shown  is  ancient,  won- 
derful, and  abundant.  In  its  decoration  one  local 
subject  is  constantly  repeated.  A  furious  bull  tossed 
a  woman,  and  while  she  was  some  twelve  feet  up  in 
the  air,  she  was  delivered  of  a  child,  who  was  thus 
actually  born  between  heaven  and  earth.  Both 
parent  and  babe  survived  for  a  number  of  days, 
and  the  husband  and  father,  who  had  been  gored, 
even  longer.  In  the  eyes  of  the  realistic  Zaandijk 
keramists,  judging  from  their  various  art  products, 
Mahomet's  coffin  was  a  circumstance  hardly  to  be 
compared  with  this  event. 

The  fireplace  in  Holland  is  the  centre  not  only 
of  comfort  and  social  life,  but  also  of  domestic  art 
and  education.  Beside  its  warmth  and  light  were 
the  tiles  with  Scripture  story,  and  above  it  was  the 
mantelpiece  rich  in  ornament  and  artistic  sugges- 
tion. The  hearth  was  the  focus  of  council,  medita- 
tion, aesthetics,  instruction,  and  comfort. 

Everything  relating  to  the  nursery  is  well  illus- 
trated in  this  little  museum.  Pins  are  plenty  in 
Dutch  proverbs  and  idioms,  and  so  they  are  in  the 
home.  Here  is  a  pin-cushion.  On  one  side  the 
name  of  a  girl  is  tricked  out  in  the  little  silvery 
disks,  and  on  the  other  is  the  name  of  a  boy,  — 
provision  being  thus  made  for  nature's  uncertain- 
ties. Whether  for  Hannah  or  for  William,  every- 
thing is  ready.    One  cushion  provides  for  a  possible 


64  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

pair  of  twins.  Then,  there  are  cradles  and  baptis- 
mal quilts,  besides  clothing  of  men,  women,  and 
children  in  all  sorts  of  fashion,  even  to  a  set  of 
mourning  clothes,  from  scalp  to  sole.  Not  far  apart 
are  the  cradle  and  the  tomb. 

How  inventors  toiled  to  anticipate  the  steamship 
and  the  balloon  is  shown  by  the  model  of  a  boat 
warranted  to  go  against  wind  and  tide.  The  thing 
had  no  "  go "  in  it,  and  was  called  "  The  Fool's 
Ship."  Another  machine  was  called  the  flying 
ship,  but  it  would  not  fly.  A  table  is  spread  with  all 
the  eating  and  drinking  implements  of  the  former 
days,  including  that  very  late  comer,  the  fork. 
Here  were  tea  trays  decorated  with  pictures  of  whales 
and  whalers.  Bowls  and  plates  made  at  Delft 
have  names  of  the  owners  and  pictures  of  their 
ships,  or  legends  in  old  Dutch  celebrating  their 
success,  that  is,  "  Goedt  success  na  London."  The 
Honig  family,  with  more  right  than  Napoleon  in  his 
ermined  robe  copied  from  Charlemagne's,  has  a  table- 
cloth embroidered  with  bees.  The  smoker's  outfit  is 
remarkably  rich.  Here  are  pipe-cases,  stoves  to  hold 
fire  for  lighting  pipes,  and  tobacco  boxes  in  all  forms, 
one  being  a  half -bound  book  with  the  motto,  "  Hu- 
man life  is  short." 

My  cicerone  chats,  laughs,  and  delightfully  ex- 
plains everything  with  wit  and  jokes ;  meanwhile 
smoking  his  cigar  until  short  as  a  chincapin,  without 
any  fear  of  burning  his  lips.  He  shows  the  carved 
wooden  schoolbook  bags,  once  daily  carried  by  boys 
and  girls  ;  a  quill  pen  with  a  tassel  on  the  end  of  a 
long  feather  ;  aU  sorts  of  linen  dresses,  mangles  and 


CHARMING  LITTLE  ZAANDIJK  66 

bangles,  and  baby  chairs,  such  as  one  sees  in  Jan 
Steen's  pictures ;  a  Bible,  hung  on  silver  chains  and 
carried  to  church  by  rosy-cheeked  maidens ;  bed- 
warmers,  cake  moulds,  and  a  hundred  other  knick- 
knacks,  suggesting  the  good  old  times,  and  tempting 
one  to  see  and  think  out,  if  not  to  write,  a  story. 

Yet,  rich  as  is  this  wonderful  coUection,  I  believe 
that  almost  everything  in  it,  except  the  purely  local 
and  marine  wonders,  either  actually  was  or  could 
have  been  duplicated  in  1880,  when  we  held  in 
Schenectady  our  Loan  Exposition  at  the  celebration 
of  the  two  hundredth  anniversary  of  the  founding 
of  the  Reformed  Dutch  Church.  A  "  kermis,"  the 
latter  might  have  been  called,  but  was  not.  Besides 
home-made  colonial  and  Iroquois  relics  was  a  mighty 
host  of  articles  of  use,  beauty,  and  luxury  brought 
over  from  Patria. 

Both  Waterland  and  the  Zaanland  have  been 
famous  in  the  history  of  the  Mennonites,  my  hostess 
being  one  of  them.  Wishing  to  see  a  modern  Men- 
nonite  meeting-house,  we  took  carriage  and  rode 
down  toward  Zaandam.  We  called  on  the  Domine, 
who  lived  next  door  to  the  edifice,  and  so  had  a 
good  guide.  The  structure  was  reared  in  1680,  and 
restored  in  1873.  The  floor,  scrubbed  as  clean  as 
a  butter  firkin,  was  covered  with  fine  sand.  Beside 
the  organ  were  the  usual  psalm  books,  and  the  long 
poles  with  silver-rimmed  bag  and  tassels  hung  up 
against  the  wall  on  hooks  by  the  ring,  which,  like 
plumpers  in  sleeves,  kept  the  bag  open.  At  the 
bottom  of  each  was  a  little  bell. 

I  noticed  many  quaint   bas-reliefs  on  the   house 


66  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

fronts.  Soon  we  came  to  the  huisje,  that  is,  the 
hut  of  Peter  the  Great.  The  workman's  shanty, 
in  which  the  Czar  lived  for  only  a  week,  is  rather 
groggy  looking,  and  leans  over  from  age.  Inside  is 
the  sleeping-room  or  bed-closet,  made  in  the  style  of 
a  bunk.  Everything  belonging  to  the  original  struc- 
ture suggests  lowly  life,  but  the  chimney  —  the  typi- 
cal part  of  a  Dutch  domestic  interior  —  has  been 
restored  and  decorated  with  tiles.  On  the  walls  are 
tablets  of  Russian  monarchs.  The  window-panes  are 
diamond-scratched  by  many  fools,  and  some  other 
people.  Like  the  little  worm-eaten  meeting-house  — 
perhaps  the  oldest  extant  wooden  church  edifice  in 
America  —  at  Salem,  Mass.,  Peter's  hut  is  inclosed 
by  an  outer  wooden  building  of  some  pretensions. 
Close  to  the  portraits  of  Peter  and  Catherine  is 
inscribed  a  Russian  proverb,  meaning  "  Nothing  too 
little  for  a  great  man."  Some  years  ago  a  Muscovite 
general,  who  visited  this  place,  gave  money  to  insti- 
tute a  prize  fund,  the  interest  of  which  goes  yearly 
to  some  Zaandam  boy  in  the  higher  public  schools. 

The  yard  and  site  of  the  hut  belong  to  the  Rus- 
sian government,  being  the  gift  of  the  royal  family 
of  Holland.  In  the  Russian  navy  to  this  day,  many 
of  the  nautical  terms  are  Dutch.  Mighty  was  the 
influence  which  the  great  Czar  took  with  him  from 
the  little  country  which  then  led  the  world  in  civil- 
ization. Our  own  William  Penn,  who  anticipated 
disarmament  and  "the  parliament  of  the  world," 
once  had  an  interview  with  Peter,  holding  a  long 
conversation  in  Dutch,  which  was  spoken  by  both 
the  founder  of   Pennsylvania  and  of   New  Russia. 


CHARMING  LITTLE  ZAANDIJK  67 

Penn  presented  the  Czar  with  Dutch  translations 
of  Friends'  books.  With  all  his  potency  to  compel 
reform  among  his  people,  the  Czar  had  little  moral 
power  to  civilize  himself. 

We  rode  back  along  the  painted  houses  and 
bridges.  I  was  constantly  reminded  of  the  old  joke 
and  picture  —  "  Do  you  see  anything  green  ?  "  The 
various  shades,  when  fresh,  suggested  peas,  apples, 
olives,  grass,  malachite,  or  beryl;  the  older  and 
more  weather-worn,  old  bottles  and  verdigris. 

We  discussed  the  Anabaptists  and  Mennonites 
as  we  rode,  and  then  visited  another  house  of  wor- 
ship, where  the  sand  on  the  floor  was  wrinkled 
and  ribbed  in  patterns  of  decorative  art  imitative  of 
the  seashore.  A  broomstick  had  been  the  only  tool 
used. 

The  doctor  declared  that  the  disciples  of  Menno 
Simons  were  excellent  people,  but  in  modern  days  so 
rich,  close,  and  thrifty,  that  "  Jews  cannot  live  in 
the  same  place  with  Mennonites."  As  to  religion 
in  Holland,  the  doctor  thought  that  the  burghers, 
city  folk,  and  professionals  were  mostly  "  Mo- 
dernen,"  while  the  common  country  people  and  the 
aristocracy  were  "  Orthodox." 

While  waiting  under  the  walnut  and  plum  trees 
in  the  garden,  expecting  the  Alkmaar  packet  back 
to  Amsterdam,  we  branched  off  into  some  of  the 
metaphysical  aspects  of  religion.  Just  as  we  were 
getting  warm  and  intense,  the  sound  of  the  whistle 
announced  the  coming  boat.  Shaking  hands,  we 
agreed  to  resume  the  discussion  when  we  next  met. 
So  ended  a  happy  June  day. 


FRIESLAND 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  LION  CITY  OF  THE  NORTH 

One  who  would  study  the  origins  of  his  far-off 
ancestry,  when  as  yet  there  were  no  English-speak- 
ing people,  must  come  to  Friesland  and  spend  hours 
in  the  Frisian  Museum  of  Antiquities  at  Leeu- 
warden.  It  is  a  bright  and  beautiful  city,  which  I 
thrice  visited. 

In  the  Spaniard  Strada's  curious  picture-map 
called  "  The  Belgian  Lion,"  Leeuwarden  is  the  eye- 
ball of  the  geographical  beast,  whose  scalp  is  the 
Frisian  archipelago,  the  muzzle  Groningen,  the  back 
Holland,  Zealand,  and  Flanders,  with  all  Belgium 
for  his  belly  and  Brabant  for  his  breast.  On  this 
map  nearly  all  the  names  are  Latinized.  Whether 
Leeuwarden  means  "  the  lion  on  guard,"  or  "  the 
lion's  earth,"  or  "  the  lion's  eye,"  I  care  not.  The 
city  has  always  had  for  me  the  lion's  share  of 
delight. 

I  saw  it  first  with  Lyra  on  the  last  day  of  July, 
after  having  come  from  Groningen  towards  the  ris- 
ing sun.  The  lovely  air  was  fresh  and  sweet  with 
all  the  odors  of  hay-making  time.  Everything  had 
"  the  smell  of  a  field  which  the  Lord  hath  blessed." 
The  city  thoroughfares  were  crowded  with  busy  peo- 
ple, for  it  was  Friday  and  market  day.     Streets  and 


72  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

canals  were  bright  with  flowers  and  the  fruits  of 
the  soil,  with  rosy-cheeked  and  handsome  Frisian 
women,  stout  farmers,  and  healthy-looking  animals. 
Our  eyes  were  quite  dazzled  with  flashes  from  the 
gold  and  silver  helmets  of  the  cherubim.  Whether 
"because  of  the  angels,"  or  from  fashion,  every 
peasant  woman  covers  her  head  with  the  metal  of 
which  money  is  made.  After  a  ramble  over  the  city 
I  ascended  to  the  top  of  the  Great  Church's  tower. 
The  vision  was  glorious.  In  the  intensely  bright 
and  clear  air  I  had  a  superb  view  of  the  plains  that 
lay  spread  out  below.  There  had  been  seen  the 
march  of  the  Teutonic  tribes  —  the  Saxons,  the 
Angles,  and  the  Frisians  —  with  their  faces  set 
westward,  to  tarry  in  their  second  home,  England, 
before  reaching  their  third  in  America.  There  are 
fifty  places  in  this  kingdom  named  Engeland  (Eng- 
land), or  the  Engle's  (Angle's)  burg,  meer,  or 
sluis. 

Like  the  powerful  magnet,  the  museum  of  Frisian 
antiquity  then  and  ever  since  attracted  me  within 
its  walls,  as  often  as  I  was  near  the  edifice.  I  con- 
sider that  in  many  respects  this  little  museum  is  to 
an  American  the  most  edifying  and  interesting  place 
in  all  Northern  Europe.  The  later  epochs,  persons, 
and  places  most  directly  associated  with  American 
history  and  the  development  of  liberty  are  also  here 
finely  represented  in  relics  of  art  and  nature. 

Geology  is  pictured  to  us  by  stones  and  bones. 
Evidences  of  the  seon-old  war  of  wind  and  wave, 
of  glacier  and  current,  tell  startling  stories.  How 
amazingly  numerous  must  have  been  the  wild  swine  I 


THE  LION  CITY   OF  THE  NORTH  73 

What  kings  of  the  forest  were  these  boars  that 
roamed  and  rooted  and  tore  with  their  terrific 
tusks!  Most  of  their  razor-like  picks  and  tusks 
show  signs  of  battle  and  conquest.  What  iron-like 
snouts  to  plough  up  the  soil !  How  plentiful  must 
have  been  the  deer,  the  wolves,  the  bears !  How 
far  —  from  Norway,  Sweden,  and  Germany  —  must 
these  boulders  and  pebbles  have  traveled  ! 

Eloquent  with  human  interest  are  the  relics  from 
the  "  terpen,"  or  mounds.  The  life  of  our  Teutonic 
ancestors  was  much  nearer  that  of  the  brutes  than 
ours.  Their  struggle  for  food  and  life  was  often 
intense,  yet  they  loved  to  braid  their  hair  and  orna- 
ment their  bodies.  Here  are  stone  combs.  They 
enjoyed  the  beautiful,  as  the  decorative  art  on  im- 
plements, utensils,  and  objects  of  religion  and  per- 
sonal ornament  prove. 

We  can  study  the  evolution  of  the  Frisian  helmet, 
with  its  pendant  jewels  and  cunning  work.  Though 
now  of  the  precious  metal,  they  are  still  called 
"  ear-irons."  In  the  beginning,  a  little  strap  of  iron, 
with  a  hook  at  the  end  to  rest  on  the  ear,  bound 
back  the  streaming  hair.  Next,  perforations  at  the 
ends  hold  near  the  face  a  flower  or  an  ornament. 
In  the  course  of  centuries  the  band  widens,  becom- 
ing first  copper  or  brass  or  bronze,  and  then  in 
modern  times  silver  and  gold,  meanwhile  spreading 
by  degrees  till  it  covers  the  cranium.  Nevertheless, 
we  enjoy  the  Medemblik  legend  that  the  Frisian 
head-dress  is  the  crown  of  thorns  glorified  in  gold. 

The  story  of  changeable  fashions  in  dress  is  here 
admirably  told,  of  table  ware,  and  bodily  decoration 


74  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

in  silver,  of  the  keramic  art,  of  furniture,  household 
adornment,  and  of  coziness  and  comfort.  One  of 
the  rooms,  including  walls,  bed-closet,  and  furni- 
ture, has  been  transferred  from  quaint  Hindeloopen. 
Here  are  portraits,  more  or  less  artistic,  of  both 
"  celebrities  and  notorieties,"  as  Mr.  Barnum  said 
to  Matthew  Arnold.  We  see  the  big  sword  of  a 
local  bandit  hero,  Japik  Emmers.  Many  a  legend 
tells  how  he  robbed  the  wicked  rich  and  helped 
the  righteous  poor. 

Franeker  University  stirs  the  American  pulses  to 
gratitude,  as  well  as  to  admiration,  but  not  alone 
because  of  the  botanical  science  nurtured  there.  In 
the  eighteenth  century,  as  well  as  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth,  Friesland  was  in  close  touch  with  Amer- 
ica. Here,  then,  are  numerous  relics  of  Franeker 
University  in  which  began  the  sentiment  against 
Great  Britain,  sympathy  with  the  American  colo- 
nies, and  an  outburst  of  enthusiasm  which  resulted 
in  our  recognition  as  a  nation.  The  appearance  of 
Paul  Jones  with  his  prize,  the  Serapis,  in  the  Texel 
and  the  Zuyder  Zee,  caused  the  streets  of  Franeker 
and  Leeuwarden  to  resound  with  patriotic  songs 
celebrating  American  victory^  Already  the  sober- 
minded  thinking  men  had  been  moved  by  pamphlets 
and  books  written  and  circulated  by  Baron  van  der 
Capellen,  Doctor  Coelkens,  and  others.  The  pages  of 
the  "  Leeuwarden  Courant,"  during  the  later  years 
of  our  Kevolutionary  War,  as  I  can  bear  witness, 
make  lively  reading  for  an  American. 

In  this  very  city  at  the  Burghers'  club,  composed 
of  leading  citizens,  the  matter  was  broached  and  a 


THE  LION  CITY  OF  THE  NORTH  75 

silver  medal  cast,  and  here  in  tlie  cases  before  us  is 
a  copy  of  the  medal.  Three  dies,  commemorating 
Dutch  sympathy  with  us  in  our  struggle  for  inde- 
pendence, were  cut  and  medals  struck.  The  first 
was  by  the  Burghers'  club  of  Leeuwarden  to  the 
state  legislature  of  Friesland  on  the  26th  of  Feb- 
ruary, 1782,  the  second  by  the  States  General  or 
national  congress,  the  third  celebrated  the  Treaty 
of  Commerce  and  Navigation  between  the  Dutch 
and  the  American  republics,  consummated  on  the 
7th  of  October,  1782. 

As  a  long  dweller  on  Manhattan  Island  and  in 
New  York  State,  often  in  Stuyvesant  Place,  and 
knowing  the  place  of  Stuyvesant's  grave,  I  ought  to 
have  visited  Scherpenzeel,  a  village  near  the  southern 
border  and  in  the  region  of  "  stuivesand,"  or  shift- 
ing, that  is,  wind-moved  or  blown-about,  sand.  Here 
was  spent  the  boyhood  of  "  Old  Silver  Leg,"  with 
whom  Diedrich  Knickerbocker  has  taken  such  liber- 
ties in  print,  and  whose  anti-tobacco  war  has  been 
so  finely  put  on  canvas  by  George  H.  Boughton. 
Peter  Stuyvesant  was  a  domine's  son,  reared  to  high 
ideas  and  aspirations.  He  fought  Spaniards  and 
Portuguese  in  the  West  Indies,  was  governor  of  Cu- 
ra^oa,  and  lost  a  leg  in  failing  to  take  the  island  of 
St.  Thomas.  Brave  to  rashness,  honest,  hot-headed, 
arbitrary,  stumping  about  on  a  silver-banded  wooden 
limb,  cane  in  hand  to  lend  impressibly  visible  em- 
phasis to  his  orders,  without  any  Frisian  "  fanaticism 
or  freedom,"  or  high  respect  for  popular  rights, 
Petrus  Stuyvesant,  like  Anthony  van  Curler,  has 
furnished  humorist,  romancer,  artist,  and  caricatur- 


76  THE  AMERICAN  IN   HOLLAND 

ist  with  a  figure  and  personality  of  endless  inter- 
est. 

Besides  receiving  honors  of  statuary  on  Broad- 
way, the  Society  of  Colonial  Dames  of  the  State 
of  New  York  has  brightened  his  fame.  They  cele- 
brated the  two  hundred  and  fiftieth  anniversary  of 
his  landing  on  Manhattan  Island  by  opening  the 
old  Van  Cortlandt  manor  in  Van  Cortlandt  Park  as 
a  public  museum.  As  the  years  pass,  Stuyvesant, 
like  his  co-worker  Arendt  van  Curler,  will  be  more 
highly  appreciated.  Have  not  the  myth-makers, 
fabulous  and  funny  fellows,  had  him  long  enough? 
"  Every  flood  has  its  ebb,"  says  the  Dutch  proverb. 

Out  of  these  modest  domines'  homes,  the  seats  of 
high  intellectual  culture  and  moral  training,  have 
gone  forth  many  of  the  world's  best  workers.  A 
little  to  the  northeast  of  Dokkum  is  Metslawier, 
where  was  born,  March  25, 1634,  Balthasar  Bekker, 
of  whom  God  made  a  hammer  for  the  destruction  of 
superstition.  This  man  dealt  witchcraft  —  that  arch- 
enemy of  Christianity  and  pure  religion  —  its  dead- 
liest blow.  His  book,  "  The  Bewitched  World," 
published  in  1691,  took  witch-hunting  out  of  the  list 
of  sports  of  theologians  and  made  witch-killing  un- 
popular. When  Dr.  Voet  bolstered  superstition  and 
wrested  the  Scripture  to  prove  comets  the  precursors 
of  calamity,  Bekker  protested  against  the  notion  in 
a  learned  work  on  comets.  He  was  one  of  those 
noble  spirits  who  see  no  "  conflict "  between  science 
and  religion.  He  was  grandly  helped  by  his  wife, 
who  with  him  hunted  down  every  witchcraft  story 
to  its  lair  of  lies.     Bekker,  as  Busken  Huet  sug- 


THE  LION  CITY  OF  THE  NORTH  77 

gests,  chained  the  devil  in  his  den  and  kept  him 
growling  there,  angry  at  losing  his  domain.  He 
showed  that  this  was  God's  world,  and  that  He  was 
in  it.  Yet  Domine  Bekker  only  put  in  print  what 
thousands  of  Dutchmen  already  believed.  He  con- 
tinued the  work  begun  by  Dr.  Wier.  It  is  surely 
no  accident  of  history  that  while  the  Puritans  of 
Massachusetts  and  Connecticut  put  scores  of  witches 
to  death,  the  Pilgrims,  who  had  been  eleven  years  in 
Holland,  were  free  of  the  taint,  making  no  allega- 
tion and  hunting  no  witch. 

With  that  true  Erasmian  temper  for  which  Dutch 
laymen  have  been  ever  happily  noted,  and  thus  able 
to  curb  that  clerical  and  anti-Christ  spirit  which  so 
often,  whether  Protestant  or  Romanist,  masquerades 
under  the  name  of  "orthodoxy,"  the  magistrates 
paid  Bekker's  salary  even  after  he  had  been  deposed 
from  the  ministry.  For  a  century  longer,  candidates 
for  license  to  preach  had  to  clear  their  skirts  of 
"Bekkerism."  The  parsons  could  not  apparently 
bear  to  have  the  devil  shorn  of  his  traditional  glory ; 
and,  besides,  Bekker  exploded  the  idea  of  endless, 
though  not  of  eternal,  punishment. 


CHAPTER  IX 

QUAINT   HINDELOOPEN 

I  MUST  visit  Hindeloopen,  or  Hinlopen,  of  which 
I  had  heard  much,  and  which  had  sentimental  asso- 
ciations with  Cape  Henlopen,  in  the  little  State 
called  "The  Blue  Hen's  Chickens."  Around  the 
Delaware  Bay  cluster  many  names  left  by  Dutch 
navigators.  Cape  May  is  named,  not  after  the 
flowery  month,  but  in  honor  of  the  first  European 
shipbuilder  in  America,  that  enterprising  Hollander 
who  launched  his  yacht,  the  Onrust,  or  Restless, 
and  explored  the  whole  southern,  as  Blok  had  ex- 
amined and  mapped  the  northern,  coast  of  New 
Netherland.  It  was  he  also,  probably,  who  called 
Cape  Henlopen  after  this  little  Frisian  town  which 
nestles  behind  the  dikes  of  the  Zuyder  Zee. 

"  Henlopen "  is  but  a  contraction  of  "  Hinde- 
loopen," which  means  the  hind  loping,  or  the  stag 
walking,  the  reference  being,  as  the  town  arms  sug- 
gest, to  that  Scripture,  "  Thou  makest  my  feet  like 
hind's  feet."  The  bos-loper,  that  is,  the  bush  or 
wood  ranger,  forerunner  of  the  modern  commercial 
traveler,  or  "drummer,"  was  a  colonial  character. 
With  the  meaning  of  the  word  in  "  interloper  "  we 
are  all  familiar.  I  was  once  asked  in  central  New 
York  by  a  friend  fond  of  pedestrianism,  if  I  wished 


QUAINT  HINDELOOPEN  79 

to  "  lope,"  rather  than  ride,  drive,  "  bike,"or  go  by 
rail.  So  in  our  Southern  States,  they  make  a  horse 
"  lope,"  but  not  "  gallop." 

Perhaps  they  who  founded  the  village  in  Fries- 
land,  ages  ago,  coined  the  name  in  devout  depend- 
ence on  God,  and  in  the  faith  of  having  as  sure  a 
foundation  against  the  flood  as  is  that  of  a  rock  for 
a  gazelle.  Anciently,  the  village  stood  on  one  of  the 
old  "  terpen,"  or  mounds,  not  far  away  from  what  was 
the  Rhine  current,  flowing  up  through  Lake  Flevo 
to  its  mouth  between  the  Texel  and  Vlieland.  The 
great  inburst  of  the  sea,  which  formed  the  Zuyder 
Zee,  pushed  the  water  closer  and  made  the  little 
place  even  more  of  a  seaport.  To-day  Hindeloopen 
stands  like  a  great  fortress,  with  mighty  bulwarks 
all  around  it,  the  grassy  dikes  forming  roadway  and 
approaches  as  well  as  defenses.  One  need  only  visit 
its  rich  and  neatly  arranged  museum  to  see  how 
diverse  has  been  its  commerce,  and  how  closely  its 
fortunes  were  linked  with  the  far-off  Orient.  Pro- 
ducts of  the  loom,  the  anvil,  and  the  kiln  are  here 
from  India,  the  golden  Chersonese,  the  Middle  King- 
dom, and  Dai  Nippon.  A  decade  before  there  was  a 
permanent  English  colonist  in  America,  grumbling 
Britons,  jealous  of  the  Dutch  and  their  enriching 
trade  with  the  far  east,  wrote  of  "  Indian  naviga- 
tion, which  hath  been  principiated  in  Holland  and 
muttered  of  in  England."  Especially  rich  are  the 
costumes,  —  the  curious  old  Frisian  hats,  bonnets, 
jewelry,  and  variegated  woman's  gear,  with  the  in- 
terminable blue  and  white  dress  patterns,  which 
remind  one  of  Delft  tiles,  —  for  the  Dutch  are  fond 
of  blue,  whether  in  fictile  or  textile  art. 


80  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

In  Hindeloopen's  modern  poverty,  as  compared 
with  its  ancient  prosperity,  it  is  probable  that  unless 
local  pride  hasten  to  the  rescue  of  the  treasures  in 
its  museum,  they  will  become  spoil  to  the  Hebrew 
or  the  American,  and  be  scattered,  as  other  Dutch 
collections  have  been. 

Without  announcing  our  coming  or  foretelling 
the  hour,  we  are  met  at  the  station  by  one  whom  we 
recognize  at  once  as  the  "  Old  Grimes  "  of  the  song 
we  used  to  sing  when,  as  boys  playing  soldiers,  we 
camped  at  Yalley  Forge ;  for,  here  he  is,  "  aU  but- 
toned down  before."  His  name  is  Van  Elsilo.  We 
jog  along  in  his  "  one-hoss  shay  "  to  his  cosy  little 
hotel,  "Stad  van  Herberg,"  next  door  to  his  bakery. 
He  puts  on  his  famous  old  coat  with  its  several 
dozen  silver  buttons  down  the  front.  He  lights  his 
pipe,  as  long  as  a  Korean's,  which  by  its  yard  of 
stem  separates  the  smoke  from  the  fire  by  at  least 
thirty-six  inches.  Then  his  vrouw  prepares  for  us 
what  is  to  be  a  toothsome  dinner,  flavored  by  deli- 
cious whiffs  of  salt  sea  air.  After  seeing  to  suste- 
nance, we  two,  that  is.  Old  Grimes  and  I,  walk  out  to 
see  the  town  which  is  to-day  gay  with  flags  in  honor 
of  the  visit  of  an  ambassador  of  state,  —  the  Water 
State.  He  is  the  inspector  of  the  Friesland  dikes, 
and  all  the  bunting  in  Hinlopen  is  on  the  breeze  to 
welcome  him. 

We  call  within  some  of  the  houses,  which  are  well 
worth  seeing.  They  are  the  relics  of  the  days  when 
commerce  made  the  town  rich.  The  walls  from 
floor  to  ceiling  are  covered  with  old  Delft  tiles.  No 
paper   or  plaster  is   necessary  here.     The  shining 


QUAINT  HINDELOOPEN  81 

smooth  surface,  hard  with  enamel,  catches  no  dust 
or  dirt  except  what  may  be  easily  wiped  off.  Bacilli 
or  germs,  we  imagine,  would  have  trouble  in  living 
on  this  mineral  surface.  Such  tiled  walls  are  com- 
mon in  basements  of  Dutch  houses  all  over  the 
realm,  and  are  admirably  suited  to  stand  the  mois- 
ture. Here,  moreover,  are  true  chambers  of  imagery. 
We  see  depicted  Adam  and  Eve  in  Eden  and  their 
expulsion  ;  the  inventive  propensities  of  their  de- 
scendants ;  the  flood ;  the  Egyptian  exile ;  the  epochs 
and  incidents  of  Syrian  border  ruffianism  ;  the  acts 
related  in  the  books  of  Judges,  Kings,  Chronicles, 
and  the  prophets  ;  episodes  of  the  Babylonian  exile 
and  the  Apocrypha ;  the  New  Testament  scenes 
and  characters.  The  whole  Biblical  story  is  here 
told  in  ultramarine  and  white.  Whether  the  people 
"live  up  to  their  blue  China"  or  not  is  a  question 
for  poets  and  aesthetes  who  write  of  "  proverbs  in 
porcelain."  In  these  days  of  Hinlopen's  lost  com- 
merce and  lack  of  business,  plain  living  is  the  rule, 
and  close  economy  is  a  necessity.  A  half  guilder 
or  dubbeltje  comes  not  amiss  from  the  visitor  to 
the  visited.  Besides  the  walls  of  tile,  there  are  still 
extant  a  number  of  the  old  painted  rooms  and 
closet-beds. 

Wood  carving  evidently  was  once  a  fine  art  in 
this  village.  Like  the  human  cuticle  in  old  Japan, 
everything  is  cut  or  colored.  Here  are  chairs, 
tables,  mangles, book-racks,  schoolboys'  wooden  satch- 
els, chests,  toilet  boxes,  tool-handles,  clock-cases,  and 
various  articles  of  furniture  carved  in  more  or  less 
tasteful  figures.     Everything  of  wood  on  which  the 


82  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

knife  has  not  come  has  had  its  face  covered  under 
pigments.  Tables,  chairs,  clothes-presses,  brush 
handles,  boxes,  bedroom  steps,  and  closet  doors  are 
gorgeously  painted,  the  colors  being  mostly  red  and 
azure,  intermingled  with  other  tints.  The  general 
effect  reminds  me  of  a  coarse  cloisonne ;  or  the  fash- 
ion prevalent  some  years  ago  in  our  own  country  of 
pasting  all  sorts  of  colored  pictures  on  screens,  tables, 
and  chairs,  and  then  varnishing  them  over;  or  of 
the  later  decalcomania.  What  was  a  passing  fad 
in  "  the  States  "  has  been  for  many  generations  a 
well-approved  fashion  here. 

In  the  Mohawk  valley  region  I  have  often  seen 
bedrooms  built  into  the  wall  like  these,  but  the 
American  copies  lack  the  gay  decoration,  carving, 
and  colors  of  the  Friesish  originals.  Here  are 
wooden  closets,  into  which  those  going  to  bed  climb 
by  means  of  a  staircase  of  three  or  four  steps,  to 
swim  for  a  moment  in  a  sea  of  feathers,  and  then 
sink  by  inches  toward  the  earth's  centre.  Once 
inside,  the  sleepers  can  either  leave  the  doors  open 
or  close  them,  since  the  lattice  work  in  the  shutters 
allows  for  circulation  of  air.  With  open  fireplaces 
and  chimneys  in  this  diked  town,  —  which  on  this 
breezy  day  reminded  me,  because  of  its  vista  over 
the  blue  plain  of  the  sea  and  over  the  low  land,  of 
Homer's  "windy  heights  of  Troy," — there  would 
be  ventilation  enough.  Who  does  not  remember  the 
closet-beds  in  Josef  Israels' s  paintings  so  rich  in 
pathos  ? 

Back  to  the  hotel,  I  took  my  dinner  in  a  room 
that  was  an  old  curiosity  shop  of  treasures.     Over 


SCRIPTURE   HISTORY  CARVED   IN  WOOD,   BOLSWARD 


QUAINT  HINDELOOPEN  83 

the  delicious  salad,  steak,  potatoes,  and  coffee,  I 
could  look  upon  the  sea  which  Mesdag  so  loves  to 
paint,  and  enjoy  the  breezes.  Then  followed  in- 
spection of  the  curiosities  of  Old  Grimes,  —  mangles, 
cake  moulds,  and  hand  sleighs.  On  these  last  sit  the 
fat-cheeked  beauties  of  Friesland,  while  Jan,  with 
his  long  curved  skates,  ribbed  woolen  clothes,  warm 
cap,  and  hot  pipe,  pushes  the  steel  runners  over  the 
glassy  ice,  to  church,  to  market,  or  to  those  famous 
contests  on  skates  in  which  women  as  well  as  men 
are  champions. 

We  visited  also  the  church,  within  and  without, 
surrounded  as  it  was  with  fishermen's  gear,  saw  the 
little  town  hall,  and  such  funny  little  things  as  the 
funny  little  village  could  show,  heard  plenty  of  local 
gossip,  and  then,  as  the  sun  was  in  the  low  west, 
were  off  with  Old  Grimes  to  the  station,  after  a  most 
delightful  visit. 

It  was  a  sentimental  journey  which  I  made  to 
Harlingen.  In  days  of  old  Rutgers,  the  man  in  our 
class  of  '69  who,  in  local  college  slang,  was  the  most 
indefatigable  "  grind  "  and  "  dig,"  who  always  made 
the  best  or  next  best  recitation,  eschewed  "  ponies  " 
in  "  getting  out "  his  Greek,  had  a  homely  and 
freckled  face,  but  who,  of  course,  married  one  of 
the  prettiest  and  best  girls  in  his  village,  came 
from  Harlingen,  in  New  Jersey.  Even  though  we 
knew  his  full  name  given  by  parents,  which,  in  two 
of  its  three  components,  was  that  of  the  Father  of 
his  Country,  we  called  him  "  Harley." 

I  rode  by  rail  from  Leeuwarden  to  Harlingen, 
reaching  this  haven  and  seaport  early  in  the  after- 


84  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

noon,  to  find  a  kermis  in  full  blast.  Here  was  gin- 
gerbread for  sale  by  the  foot,  yard,  rod,  pole,  or 
perch.  There  were  bushels  and  tons  of  Deventer 
honey  cakes,  while  a  line  of  fires,  like  a  row  of  Jap- 
anese tea-drying  pans,  or  keramic  kilns,  was  send- 
ing off,  whithersoever  the  wind  blew  it,  whiffs  of 
the  effluvia  from  hot  oil  which  kept  the  "  poffertjes  '* 
from  scorching.  Hundreds  of  urban  and  bucolic 
folk  were  busy  chatting,  dancing,  or  gaping  at  the 
shows.  Flocks  of  children  were  in  a  riot  of  de- 
light. 

The  townspeople  talked  good  Dutch,  but  among 
the  rustic  groups  of  roisterers,  or  those  "  tripping 
the  light  fantastic  toe,"  the  talk  was  mostly  in  genu- 
ine Friesish.  Out  on  the  quays,  beside  the  usual 
"  bums  "  and  "  tjalks,"  were  fine  steamers  loading 
with  butter,  cheese,  and  cattle  for  London  and  Hull. 
On  the  outskirts  of  the  roadside  was  a  gypsy  camp, 
for  even  Holland  cannot  get  rid  of  these  reputed 
sons  and  daughters  of  the  land  of  Rahab. 

I  thought  I  knew  how  to  pronounce  the  name  Har- 
lingen.  For  had  I  not  been  in  New  Jersey,  where, 
forgetful  of  the  old  Frisian  hard  g^  they  pronounce 
the  name  Harlinjen  ?  Using  this  incorrect  sound 
before  an  educated  gentleman  in  Leeuwarden,  I  was 
reminded  of  that  "  Anglo-Saxon  g  "  in  "  begin,  be- 
get, boggy,"  instead  of  "  gem,  giant,  gyves,"  of  old 
grammar  lessons  of  which  we  boast.  So  I  immedi- 
ately hardened  my  guttural.  Yet  what  speaker  of 
English  can  satisfy  a  Dutchman  in  pronouncing  a 
Dutch  g  ? 


CHAPTER  X 

FRANEKEB,  SNEEK,  AND  AMERICAN  PRECEDENTS 

To  Franeker  I  must  come  perforce,  because  here 
lived  Amesius,  as  the  Dutch  call  him.  Dr.  William 
Ames  was  an  Englishman,  a  Cambridge  graduate, 
and  long  a  professor  in  the  University  here,  making 
Netherland  his  second  fatherland.  He  was  poten- 
tially one  of  the  founders  of  Massachusetts.  Seeking 
a  change  of  climate  from  the  raw  air  of  Friesland,  he 
planned  to  cross  the  Atlantic  with  his  family,  —  a 
wife,  son,  and  daughter.  While  waiting  in  Rotter- 
dam to  take  ship,  a  sudden  inundation  rose  during 
the  night,  and  the  flood  covered  the  floor  of  his 
sleeping-room.  He  stepped  from  his  bed  into  the 
water,  and  died  of  the  chill,  November  1, 1633,  in  his 
fifty-sixth  year.  His  widow  and  children  the  fol- 
lowing year  sailed  to  America  with  Hugh  Peters, 
the  successor  of  Roger  Williams  in  the  Bay  Colony, 
and  later  Cromwell's  chaplain.  They  took  with 
them  the  fine  library  which  Dr.  Ames  had  collected. 
Thus  the  flood  in  Rotterdam  robbed  America  of  his 
presence,  and  caused  his  grave  to  be  made  by  the 
Maas  instead  of  by  the  Merrimac.  In  Franeker 
University  "  lived,  taught,  and  died  "  several  other 
Scottish  and  English  scholars  and  lovers  of  free- 
dom who  found  homes  in  America. 


86  THE  AMERICAN   IN  HOLLAND 

In  Franeker  dwelt  also  that  tuneful  and  poeti- 
cal Englishman  who,  instead  of  choosing  affliction 
with  the  people  of  God,  preferred  the  pleasures 
and  riches  of  the  Dutch  Egypt.  It  was  not  for  him 
to  cross  the  ocean's  wilderness  to  the  promised  land. 
Jan  Starter  was  his  name.  Many  are  his  songs, 
fluent  was  his  pen,  and  broad  is  his  humor.  Well 
preserved  are  his  fame  and  his  verses.  Edition  after 
edition  of  his  poems  has  been  published.  Only  last 
year  (1894)  did  Professor  Jan  Ten  Brink,  of  Ley  den, 
write  a  charming  novelette  entitled  "Jan  Starter 
and  his  Wife." 

Franeker  University  also  began  that  political  sen- 
timent and  agitation  which  resulted  in  the  recog- 
nition of  the  United  States  of  America,  first  by 
the  states  particular  of  Friesland,  and  then  by  the 
States  General  of  the  United  Netherlands. 

I  came  by  rail  from  Leeuwarden  to  the  little  an- 
cient city,  passing  midway  on  the  right  the  village 
of  Dronrijp,  the  birthplace  of  Alma  Tadema,  son  of 
a  Mennonite,  and  a  great  painter,  who  has  made  life 
among  the  vanished  Greeks  and  Eomans  so  real  to 
us.  Franeker's  pretty  town  hall  is  one  of  the  neatest 
in  Friesland  or  in  the  kingdom.  In  an  open  space 
now  full  of  trees,  air,  and  sunlight,  formerly  stood 
a  great  church,  which  was  blown  to  atoms  in  an  ex- 
plosion of  gunpowder.  Another  spot,  made  famous 
in  picture  and  story,  now  indicated  by  a  tablet,  is 
that  where  the  famous  stadholder  came  near  being 
drowned. 

Like  every  one  else  who  reads  Baedeker,  I  went 
to  see  what  the  man  of  the  red  book  calls  "  the 


FRANEKER  AND  SNEEK  87 

greatest  curiosity  of  the  place,"  which  shows  all  the 
motions  of  the  planets,  the  sun  and  the  moon,  with 
the  utmost  scientific  accuracy.  It  was  constructed 
by  Eise  Eisinga,  a  simple  burgher  of  Franeker,  in 
1774-81.  In  a  word,  this  maker  of  a  miniature  of 
the  universe  began  his  seven  years'  work  when  the 
colonies  of  Great  Britain  were  insisting  upon  main- 
taining their  ancient  heritage  of  freedom.  When 
he  had  completed  it,  he  and  his  fellow  townsmen 
of  Franeker  described  a  new  constellation  of  thir- 
teen stars  rising  above  the  world's  political  horizon. 
Then  did  the  students  of  the  University,  with  songs 
and  Latin  poetry  and  a  torchlight  procession,  make 
demonstrations  in  honor  of  the  republic  of  thirteen 
States  beyond  the  sea,  whose  very  history  seemed  but 
a  transcript  of  their  own.  Their  contagious  enthu- 
siasm moved  the  legislature  of  Friesland  to  take 
initial  action  and  pass  a  vote  recognizing  the  United 
States  as  an  independent  nation  and  John  Adams 
as  our  national  envoy.  The  story  is  told  not  only 
in  ink,  in  contemporary  newspapers,  in  statesmen's 
diaries,  in  Dr.  Slothouwer's  pamphlet,  but  also  in 
the  medals  struck  to  commemorate  the  event. 

But  where  was  the  University,  or  rather,  where 
were  its  relics  ?  Napoleon  suppressed  this  "  High 
School "  in  1811,  as  he  did  also  that  of  Harderwijk. 
It  was  a  little  too  democratic,  and  its  democracy  too 
much  of  the  right  sort,  to  please  him.  Founded 
in  1585,  six  years  after  the  Dutch  union  of  states 
and  four  after  their  declaration  of  independence,  it 
welcomed  to  its  faculty  the  Puritan  Dr.  Ames.  Its 
name  was  Friesland's  High  School  and  the  National 
Athenaeum  at  Franeker. 


88  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Unable  to  find  by  inquiry  of  chance  passers-by 
on  the  streets  the  true  inwardness  of  the  case  con- 
cerning the  defunct  University,  I  went  into  the  town 
hall,  whose  noble  f  a9ade  and  charming  architecture 
had  attracted  me,  and  inquired  of  one  of  the  polite 
clerks.  With  a  smile  he  beckoned  me  into  a  large 
room  beyond  the  office,  and  in  one  moment  I  was 
ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  shades  of  great 
men.  I  felt  like  Dante  when  conducted  by  Virgil. 
I  was  awed  at  this  exhibition  of  faces  looking  at  me 
from  the  past.  Not  "  twenty  centuries,"  as  Napoleon 
told  his  soldiers  at  the  foot  of  the  pyramids,  but  at 
least  three  of  them  looked  down  upon  newcomers. 
Here  were  the  painted  portraits  of  Vitringa,  Cocce- 
jus,  Venema,  Hemsterhuis,  Schultens,  Valckenaer, 
and  many  another  theologian,  philosopher,  scholar, 
and  critic.  Most  fascinating  to  me  was  the  picture 
of  Amesius,  whose  theology  is  still  read  by  boers  in 
the  Transvaal  and  by  gentlemen  and  farmers  in  the 
Netherlands.  I  afterward  met  a  Utrecht  graduate, 
who  had  won  his  degree  by  writing  a  thesis  on  the 
theology  of  Amesius. 

It  was  a  delightful  afternoon  that  I  spent  in  this 
academic  city  of  seven  thousand  inhabitants,  where 
Coccejus,  the  father  of  modern  Biblical  criticism, 
and  his  fellow  men  of  learning  had  so  ably  taught 
and  left  those  thoughts  which  still  influence  our 
generation.  Out  of  their  rooted  ideas  many  a  fair 
flower  of  intellect  blossoms  to-day.  They  hastened 
that  day  when  it  shall  be  literally  true,  —  "  The  word 
of  God  is  not  bound." 

Fair  is  the  story  of  this  Frisian  High  School,  as 


FRANEKER  AND  SNEEK  89 

told  in  the  illustrated  volumes  of  Mr.  B.  S.  Boeles. 
To  a  luminous  text  he  adds  pictures  of  edifices  and 
medals.  The  bookbinder's  stamp  shows  the  collected 
arms  of  the  cities  of  Friesland  and  the  costume  of 
the  students  in  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  cen- 
tury. Franeker's  own  shield,  topped  with  a  crown, 
is  held  *by  two  female  figures  who,  like  Ceres,  bear 
each  a  bundle  of  grain.     On  the  shield  is  a  bell. 

Now  for  "  the  Frisian  Hague." 

As  in  metaphysics  a  thing  is  both  absolute  and 
relative,  so,  of  course,  to  every  provincial  Dutchman, 
there  is  a  Hague  other  than  that  which  is  the  capital 
of  the  kingdom.  There  is  not  only  the  Hague,  which 
needs  no  qualification,  but  also  many  a  one  with  an 
adjective  prefixed.  In  traveling  through  the  eleven 
provinces  I  found,  as  I  am  inclined  to  believe,  some- 
what more  than  eleven  of  these  Hagues  spoken  of 
with  admiration  and  local  pride.  Certain  it  is  that 
my  rosy-cheeked  young  Frisian  at  Dokkum  was  very 
serious  in  insisting  that  Heerenveen  (the  gentlemen's 
turf  or  sward)  was  "  the  Frisian  Hague  ; "  and, 
judging  from  the  stately  trees,  majestic  avenues,  and 
elaborate  landscapes,  he  was  not  wrong.  Heerenveen 
is  in  rather  a  dry  region  compared  with  that  network 
of  "  meers  "  or  seas,  lakes,  ponds,  and  natural  and 
artificial  streams  which  lies  along  a  wide  strip  run- 
ning diagonally  from  the  Lauwers  Zee  on  the  north- 
east to  the  Vrouwenzand  on  the  southwest.  These 
lakes  are  locally  called  "  meers,"  or  seas ;  just  as  the 
English  people,  in  the  time  of  our  Bible  translation, 
named  even  a  little  pond  a  "  sea,"  so  that  Lake  Tibe- 
rias is  still  in  "  sacred  English  speech  "  the  Sea  of 


90  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Galilee.  So  also  the  pond  back  of  Plymouth,  Mass., 
is  named  after  that  scapegrace  and  first  typically 
mischievous  American  small  boy  in  the  Pilgrim 
Company, — "  Billington's  Sea." 

Leaving  Heerenveen  behind  me,  I  moved  eastward 
over  the  pond-dotted  landscape,  with  many  a  village 
having  a  name  ending  in  "  ryp  "  (pronounced  ripe). 
This  term  was  borrowed  from  the  Latin,  and  means 
river-side,  though  name  and  situation  do  not  always 
agree,  for  watercourses  change  and  water  dries  often 
when  words  do  not. 

I  spent  the  afternoon  and  night  in  Sneek.  Its 
name  is  pronounced  like  that  of  the  reptile  abhorred 
by  all  women,  from  the  time  of  our  mother  Eve. 
Yet,  if  we  may  trust  old  Frisian,  Sneek  is  corrupted 
from  "  schnitt,"  which  means  cut,  or  division,  just  as 
Schneider,  or  Snider,  means  a  cutter  with  knife  or 
spade.  Whether  it  refers  to  the  delving  and  the 
digging  which  precedes  and  belongs  to  the  life  of  all 
Dutch  towns,  as  in  the  case  of  Delft  and  Grave,  and 
which  was  still  going  on  vigorously  even  while  I  was 
there,  I  do  not  know.  The  body  of  no  other  country 
on  earth  is  so  gashed  and  gored,  delved  into  and 
scratched,  so  full  of  incisions  and  scars,  as  is  that  of 
Holland.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  there  are,  speaking 
broadly,  no  mines,  tunnels,  or  caves. 

On  mention  by  a  native  of  the  derivation,  there 
rose  to  my  mind  something  like  the  "indistinct 
visions "  of  meat-pie  in  the  brain  of  Dickens's  fat 
boy.  Of  Schnitz  as  the  name  of  an  article  of  food, 
every  rural  Pennsylvanian  knows,  for  a  dish  of 
"  dump  noodles  and  schnitts  "  is  not  to  be  despised. 


FRANEKER  AND   SNEEK  91 

How  is  it  made?  Boil  your  ham  with  well-raised 
light  dough,  made  in  balls  or  dumplings,  and  with 
dried  apples.  Your  sliced  ham  with  the  dumplings 
and  apples,  eaten  with  molasses,  makes  a  dish,  as  I 
remember  well,  fit  for  any  god  that  may  live  on  the 
Alleghany  Mountains  or  any  other  Pennsylvania 
Olympus.  Let  no  poor  imitation  of  the  savory  and 
delicious  combination  deceive  one.  A  failure  here 
is  as  sad  as  that  expressed  in  the  four  b^s  in  bad 
Boston  brown  bread. 

Since  all  the  local  wiseacres  and  antiquaries  of 
Sneek  do  not  agree  as  to  the  derivation  of  its  name, 
I  shall  take  neither  the  time  nor  the  risk  of  being 
dogmatic,  especially  in  this  decade  of  heresy  trials. 
Reaching  the  little  city,  which  has  nearly  twelve 
thousand  people,  I  put  up  at  the  hotel  Wijnberg, 
near  which  was  a  lively  market  and  neat  weigh 
house,  for  Sneek  is  famous  for  its  butter  and  cheese. 
In  the  region  around,  the  cows  in  their  natural 
blankets  of  white  and  black,  and  almost  consciously 
proud  of  their  genealogy,  probably  outnumber  the 
human  beings  occupying  the  rural  districts.  A  band 
of  musicians  was  playing,  and  all  the  young  Sneekers 
seemed  to  be  out  for  flirtation,  aesthetic  culture,  to 
see  and  to  be  seen,  or  for  general  amusement. 

To  the  visitor  who  comes  in  the  time  of  the  yacht 
races,  and  is  so  happy  as  to  receive  an  invitation 
at  the  hands  and  lips  of  some  of  these  handsome 
Dutchmen  to  go  on  board  to  eat,  drink,  and  be 
merry,  while  swiftly  scudding  over  the  waters,  Sneek 
has  powerful  summer  attractions.  Otherwise  there 
is  little  to  charm  the  general  visitor,  and  in  winter 


92  THE  AMERICAN   IN  HOLLAND 

the  surrounding  landscape  is  bleak  and  desolate. 
The  general  run  —  not  of  weather  probabilities,  but 
of  weather  certainties  —  is  rain,  clearing,  and  chill, 
in  strict  alternation.  No  wonder  Dr.  Ames  wanted 
to  make  a  change  and  try  even  the  east  winds  of 
New  England;  where,  if  Mark  Twain  is  to  be 
trusted,  there  are,  on  some  days,  one  hundred  and 
thirty-three  kinds  of  weather  within  twenty-four 
hours. 


CHAPTER  XI 

DOKKUM   AND   OUR  PAGAN  FORBEARS 

Among  the  thousand  things  in  nature  and  man 
to  tell  us  that  Friesland  is  our  ancestors'  home-land 
are  the  many  originals  visible  to  the  eye  and  dear 
to  the  ear  in  the  names  themselves.  All  around  us 
are  places  ending  in  "  um,"  or  home.  In  England 
an  h  is  put  before  the  vowel  and  liquid  that  make 
the  sweet  word.  Country  folks  still  say  "hum" 
instead  of  home.  The  discrimination  between  house, 
or  dwelling,  and  home,  the  lot  or  landed  area, 
blunted  in  our  modern  speech  and  diction,  is  very 
clear  in  Frisian,  and  survives  in  the  phrase  about 
"  eating  one  out  of  house  and  home."  The  titles  of 
the  ancient  officers,  "  heim-raad  "  and  "  huis-raad," 
have  become  family  names,  as  Himrod,  Hoysradt, 
and  so  on.  Let  us  visit  one  of  these  ancient  homes, 
Dokkum. 

Kiding  from  Veenwoude  northward  past  many 
places  ending  in  "  woude,"  or  "  wold,"  we  reach 
Dokkum,  the  place  of  St.  Boniface's  martyrdom. 
The  neat  and  handsome  tram-car  is  well  occupied 
with  substantial  looking  farmer  gentlemen  and  their 
wives.  The  women's  dresses,  fashionably  trimmed 
and  cut  and  of  excellent  quality,  are  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  while  on  their  heads,  between  hair 


94  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

and  hat,  is  the  golden  skuUcap  with  metal  rosettes 
and  pendants  fronting  the  ear. 

Inside  the  town,  on  making  inquiry  for  the  En- 
gelsche  Onderwyzer,  I  am  led  by  a  polite  native  to 
the  school  and  house  where  he  lives.  A  fine  look- 
ing but  slightly  built  young  Frisian  comes  out,  and 
therewith  begins  a  pleasant  acquaintance  which 
lasts  many  days  beyond  that  on  which  he  served 
me  so  kindly  as  guide,  philosopher,  and  friend. 

It  is  a  lovely  day  in  July.  The  weather  is  glo- 
rious, the  landscape  superb,  and  the  air  so  clear 
that  everything  in  the  distance  looks  close  at  hand. 
I  am  reminded  of  Colorado  sunshine,  with  its  power 
to  annihilate  distance  as  measured  by  the  eye.  We 
are  enjoying  the  third  division  of  the  regular  order 
of  weather  in  Friesland ;  that  is,  we  are  in  the  third 
day  of  that  series  of  three  —  heat,  thunderstorm, 
and  cold  —  which  succeed  each  other  as  regularly 
as  stripes  in  the  national  flag.  Its  complete  har- 
mony with  the  tri-color  helps  to  make  the  Dutch- 
man patriotic.  A  red  day  of  heat  is  succeeded  by 
a  white  day  of  lightning,  and  then  comes  a  blue 
day  of  cold,  when  the  heavens  are  as  sapphire,  the 
air  pure,  and  the  sunlight  golden.  Every  one  is 
swathed  in  woolen,  even  though  it  is  July. 

At  the  town  hall  we  call  upon  the  burgomaster. 
This  magnate  turns  out  to  be  a  most  agreeable  gen- 
tleman, as  friendly  as  an  American,  as  polite  as  a 
Frenchman,  and  as  hospitable  as  an  Englishman  at 
home.  Everything  in  the  little  Stadhuis  is  polished 
and  shining.  In  the  council  room  are  fine  alto-relief 
imitations  and  wall  paintings  by  an  unknown  artist, 


DOKKUM  AND  OUR  PAGAN  FORBEARS      95 

telling  in  miniature  the  fourfold  story  of  Dok- 
kum.  The  first  represents  the  rise  from  heathen- 
ism and  the  entrance  of  Christianity.  The  second 
tells  of  the  uprising  of  the  people  and  the  crusades 
for  the  recovery  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  The  third 
depicts  the  intellectual  victory  of  the  Reformation, 
the  breaking  of  the  seals,  and  the  victory  of  truth 
over  error.  The  fourth  recounts  in  symbol  the  boun- 
tiful blessings  which  come  from  agriculture  and 
commerce. 

The  three  letters  S.  P.  Q.  are  here,  as  in  most  of 
the  Netherlandish  cities,  set  forth  in  gold,  meaning 
Senate  and  People  (of  Dokkum).  The  municipal 
shield  has  three  stars  under  a  crescent  with  a  crown 
at  the  top.  Another  picture  represents  a  Frisian 
burgomaster  resisting  gifts  from  the  Duke  of  Sax- 
ony. With  this  nobleman  the  relations  of  Dokkum 
at  certain  epochs  were  very  close.  Once  Dokkum 
had  water  connection  with  the  sea,  but  now  there 
are  no  fishing  vessels  in  the  town.  The  Admiralty 
House,  built  for  the  men  who  did  business  in  great 
waters,  still  stands.  The  old  edifice  has  been  "  re- 
stored," and  is  now  used  as  an  almshouse  for  the 
poor.  The  ancient  bulwarks  are  leveled  into  grassy 
oblivion.  There  is  no  more  any  danger  of  Dokkum 
suffering  a  "  Spanish  fury,"  as  it  once  did  in  1569, 
when  Robles  de  Billy  let  his  war  dogs  loose  to  plun- 
der and  to  ravish.  There  are  fewer  gold  and  silver 
shops  than  of  yore,  for  the  peasants  are  not  so  rich 
as  formerly,  the  trade  of  this  northern  province 
having  greatly  decayed.  Nevertheless,  I  did  my  part 
to  revive  business  by  purchasing  some  of  the  pretty 


96  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

silver  spoons  with  carnelian  handles,  and  other  trin- 
kets in  filigree,  or  of  peculiar  Frisian  fashion,  for 
children  and  friends  at  home. 

We  three  then  sauntered  through  the  little  city 
to  the  suburb  of  Murmerwoude  to  see  the  well  of 
Boniface,  or  Winifred.  Dokkum  has  but  four  thou- 
sand people,  but  it  is  clean  and  pleasant,  with  shin- 
ing tile  roofs,  immaculate  window-panes,  a  club- 
house, and  civilization  in  miniature.  I  saw  many 
pretty  girls  and  children  with  plump  hands  and 
feet.  There  seemed  to  be  a  mania  for  brass  pol- 
ishing. Everything  that  was  metal  was  made  to 
shine  as  gold  or  silver.  This  may  have  been  be- 
cause it  was  Saturday,  but  the  maids  seemed  to  be 
scouring  the  brass  as  if  the  secrets  of  alchemy  lay  in 
friction,  and  they  would  turn  base  metal  into  gold. 
The  water  in  the  grachts  appeared  to  be  unusually 
clear. 

There  are  two  legends  as  to  the  origin  of  Boni- 
face's fountain,  or  well.  One  is  that  water  rose 
from  the  earth  at  the  stroke  of  his  rod.  The  other 
avers  that  it  sprung  up  under  his  horse's  hoof.  In 
the  olden  time,  and  even  down  to  about  1880,  people 
came  from  great  distances  to  wash  their  feet  in  the 
holy  water  as  it  ran  from  the  pool.  During  one  pe- 
riod the  guild  of  beer  brewers  possessed  it.  Now 
both  the  pool  and  the  land  adjoining  it  are  the  pro- 
perty of  the  city.  The  water,  which  is  at  present 
about  fifteen  metres  in  diameter  and  two  deep,  never 
fails.  In  times  past,  attempts  have  been  made  while 
cleaning  the  hollow  to  dry  the  bottom,  but  fed  by 
the  springs  which  have  their  reservoirs  in  the  dis- 


DOKKUM  AND  OUR  PAGAN  FORBEARS      97 

tant  hills  over  on  yonder  horizon,  the  water  ever 
bursts  up  afresh. 

Like  a  great  bright  eye  on  the  face  of  the  land- 
scape is  this  pool,  open  to  the  sky,  where  flows  "  the 
river  of  God  which  is  full  of  water,"  which  keeps  it 
brimming.  The  overflow  runs  by  a  trench  to  a  great 
filter  under  a  pump,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  nearer 
the  main  road,  where  is  the  traditional  market- 
place and  site  of  martyrdom  of  the  holy  missionary. 
Here,  on  the  9th  of  June,  A.  d.  755,  Boniface  was 
slain  in  the  pagan  reaction  against  a  Christianity 
which  was  too  Roman  to  suit  the  spirit  of  the  free 
and  always  fiercely  patriotic  Frisians.  Dokkum  was 
not  the  only  town  that  suffered  in  the  alternate  ebb 
and  flow  of  paganism. 

To  the  east  and  northeast  of  the  pool  are  some 
remains  of  old  dikes,  now  covered  with  waving  grass. 
These  were  built  long  ago  by  the  Duke  of  Saxony 
to  keep  out  the  sea  water.  On  the  old  city  bastions 
the  axes  of  the  windmills  gyrated  hilariously  and 
their  sails  cast  merry  moving  shadows  over  the 
sward,  but  the  lively  breezes  failed  to  stir  anything 
in  the  graveyards  beneath.  The  fields  around  were 
richly  covered  with  tall  wheat  in  the  ear,  areas  of 
mustard  yellow  as  gold.  Long  lines  of  trees,  with 
branches  wind-blown  all  one  way,  seemed  on  the 
march  like  troops.  Apparently  sailing  over  the 
landscape  were  sloops,  red-sailed  and  turf-laden. 
Processions  of  carts,  full  of  black  earth  from  the 
"  terpen,"  helped  to  give  an  animated  picture  to  the 
eye.  In  sheltered  fields  rye  was  growing,  and  here 
and  there  were  patches  of  chicory  with  tall  stems 


98  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

and  blue  flowers.  One  of  the  windmills  had  red 
sails,  and  under  it  a  dimple-cheeked  Frisian  sailor 
and  his  sweetheart  were  walking  together,  "  waist- 
ing  their  time  "  in  a  manner  mutually  delightful. 

Further  down  the  road  toward  Yeenwoude  were 
great  round  stacks  of  air-dried  peat.  Many  houses 
had  the  bricks  in  the  edges  of  their  front  gables 
wrought  into  curious  zigzag  patterns,  as  may  be  seen 
yet  in  old  Schenectady.  White-tailed  birds  were 
bobbing  around.  I  saw  companies  of  German  farm 
laborers  from  East  Friesland,  who  had  crossed  the 
frontier  to  work  during  hay  and  barley  harvest. 
Both  man  and  scythe  seemed  wonderfully  primitive. 
The  snath  was  not  modern  and  American-like,  but 
ancient  and  picturesque,  reminding  me  of  Holman 
Hunt's  pictures  of  old  England.  In  front  of  one 
farmhouse  was  a  stork's  nest  on  a  platform  twelve 
feet  high,  built  by  the  human  inhabitants  for  this 
feathered  St.  Simeon  Stylites.  Whether  the  stork's 
visits  had  been  made  metaphorically  and  with  fre- 
quency to  the  nursery,  as  well  as  actually  in  the 
yard,  and  this  post  for  the  nest  had  been  erected 
out  of  gratitude,  I  did  not  know;  but,  certainly; 
babies  and  cradles  are  very  common  in  Frisian 
homes.  This  province  furnishes  a  noble  contingent 
of  civilizers  to  our  own  great  Northwest,  to  the  colo- 
nies in  South  Africa,  and  to  the  East  Indies. 

In  the  distance  the  acres  were  dotted  with  hay- 
cocks and  barley  sheaves.  Elsewhere  men  were 
spreading  the  rich  clay,  laboriously  hauled  for  miles 
from  the  "  terpen,"  or  mounds,  to  spread  over  the 
sandy  soil  and  thus  make  fertility. 


DOKKUM  AND  OUR  PAGAN  FORBEARS      99 

Indeed,  throughout  Netherland,  the  difference  be- 
tween barrenness  and  verdure,  habitation  and  deso- 
lation, village  and  heath,  is  that  between  sand  and 
clay.  On  the  clay  all  life  thrives.  On  the  sand  only 
heather,  furze,  or  scrub-pine  can  exist.  A  patch  of 
sea-clay  in  a  heath,  or  a  bank  of  alluvium  near  a 
river,  means  green  fields,  brick  houses  and  red-tile 
roofs,  and  plenty  of  cows  and  men. 

In  Friesland  clay  is  actually  bought  for  cash  as  a 
fertilizer  of  the  sand.  In  our  day,  as  I  see  with  my 
own  eyes,  history  is  yielding  to  science  and  antiquity 
to  agriculture.  Nearly  all  the  villages  in  "  Free 
Frisia  "  are  built  on  "  terpen,"  or  mounds.  In  this 
birthplace  of  the  Teutonic  town-meeting,  the  town, 
or  "tuin,"  was  of  necessity  built  on  a  hillock,  either 
natural  or  artificial.  As  matter  of  fact,  these  ele- 
vations were  usually  "  half-and-half,"  as  the  Dutch 
say  of  a  certain  preprandial  drink.  In  the  days 
before  dikes,  when  the  sea  or  river  stream  was  at 
any  stormy  moment  liable  to  flood  the  country,  the 
"  terp,"  though  but  a  mound,  was  a  high  place  of 
refuge.  Equipped  with  a  ditch  and  palings,  or  hedge 
("  tuin "  or  town),  the  "  terp  "  also  served  as  a 
fortification  in  the  dry-weather  time  of  war,  and 
foiled  also  the  assaults  of  the  wild  beasts  of  prey, 
once  so  common  in  this  region.  Often  the  "  terp," 
which  is  but  cousin  to  the  word  "  dorp,"  became  in 
time  the  foundation  of  the  Groote  Kerk,  and  anon 
a  permanent  village,  town,  or  city.  In  some  cases, 
however,  it  remained  a  solitary  and  forgotten  land- 
mark, not  unfrequently  rich  in  trees,  the  delight  of 
picnickers,  of  shade-loving  cows,  the  centre  of  local 


100  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

folk-lore,  the  resort  of  the  delving  antiquary.  Eich 
are  the  spoils  in  the  museums  of  Leeuwarden  and 
Groningen  unearthed  from  the  "terpen." 

Now,  however,  the  unsentimental  chemist  has  dis- 
covered in  these  mounds  potential  mines  of  gold. 
The  deposits  and  remains  of  animals,  their  ordure 
and  their  bones,  accumulating  during  many  centu- 
ries, and  the  quality  of  the  clay  have  produced  just 
the  sort  of  compost  which  the  cultivator  of  ungener- 
ous sand-fields  requires.  The  clay  of  the  "  terp  " 
lards  well  the  lean  sand.  Hence,  despite  sentiment, 
an  army  of  men  with  pick  and  shovel  have  leveled 
many  a  Frisian  mound,  as  I  see  them  doing  to-day. 
The  committee  of  antiquarians  from  the  museums 
stands  by  with  rakes  to  secure  the  skulls,  bones, 
stone  combs,  masses  of  rust,  once  weapons,  and 
relics  of  all  sorts  and  of  many  ages.  On  the  top  are 
buttons,  horseshoes,  bits  of  modern  crockery,  and 
other  trifles  of  our  century.  Lower  down  are  me- 
diaeval amulets,  saints'  gear  of  several  sorts.  Further 
toward  the  profound  are  images  of  Mercury,  Apollo, 
Venus,  or  fragments  of  the  Roman  man  in  war  or 
peace.  Last  of  all  are  the  bone  needles,  stone 
tools,  and  pottery  of  our  primitive  ancestors.  In 
short,  one  sees  a  series  of  strata  in  these  mounds 
which  recalls  Dr.  Schliemann's  revelations  at  Ilium. 

The  carts  carry  away  the  fattening  clay  to  spread 
over  the  potato,  rye,  and  wheat  fields,  while  the  happy 
owner  gains  not  only  a  new  and  rich  level  field,  but 
also  guilders  by  the  ten  thousand.  One  "terp," 
long  neglected,  except  for  timber,  as  a  nearly  useless 
bit  of  "  bosch  "  (woodland),  which  I  saw  being  dug 


DOKKUM  AND  OUR  PAGAN  FORBEARS     101 

into  as  eagerly  as  bridesmaids  cut  into  a  wedding 
cake,  netted  125,000.  The  small  mountain  of  clay- 
was  sold  on  the  spot  for  so  much  a  ton,  the  pur- 
chasers carting  off  the  new  fertilizer  at  their  own 
expense.  Hard  as  it  is  for  the  Frisian  boer  to  com- 
pete with  the  American  farmer,  the  "  terpen  "  clay 
has  come  to  his  door  as  opportunely  as  did  the  marl 
of  New  Jersey,  or  the  phosphate  beds  of  South  Caro- 
lina, to  their  farmers. 

I  persuaded  my  Frisian  friend  to  supplement  his 
occasional  halting  English  with  Dutch  or  Frisian 
words.  I  was  interested  in  finding  many  of  them 
exactly  like  those  used  in  the  region  of  the  Hudson 
and  Mohawk,  as  the  "  fuyk  "  (net),  "  aal "  (eel), 
"boght"  (bend),  "morgen"  (half  acre),  "wyf" 
(wife). 

Frisian  is  still  spoken  by  the  country  people,  who 
think  the  dialect  mighty  and  melodious,  and  who 
refuse  to  give  it  up,  though  every  effort  is  made  in 
the  schools  and  towns  to  compel  the  use  of  Dutch  in 
conversation  and  trade,  as  well  as  in  the  schools, 
courts,  and  churches.  The  ancient  Frisians  did  not 
like  to  live  in  towns,  and  the  peasants  are  much  like 
their  ancestors  to  this  day.  Those  Frisians  who  do 
live  in  cities  and  cling  to  their  ancestral  speech  use 
an  execrable  mixture  of  both  languages,  which  is 
often  the  occasion  of  jesting  and  mockery  by  either 
rivals  or  critics  who  hold  to  the  one  and  despise  the 
other.  As  a  rule,  in  language,  as  in  politics  or  trade, 
no  man  can  serve  two  masters.  In  reality,  the  "  city 
Frisian  "  is  mainly  seventeenth  century  Dutch. 

Before  railways  and  steamers  invaded  this  region, 


102  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

before  Holland,  the  most  commercial  of  aU  the 
eleven  provinces,  covered  the  fields  and  streets  of 
Friesland  with  an  army  of  business  agents,  before 
judges  and  royal  officers  settled  in  large  numbers  in 
this  northern  province,  while  the  local  nobility  en- 
tered the  army  or  went  to  live  at  the  Hague,  the 
speech  of  all,  high  and  low,  poor  and  burgher,  was 
Friesish.  "  In  those  halcyon  days,"  writes  my  cice- 
rone, now  become  correspondent,  "  every  one,  noble 
and  peasant,  spoke  pure  Frisian ;  now,  alas,  Dutch 
is  the  more  civilized  language,  and  a  great  many 
Frisians,  that  is  the  townspeople,  do  not  know  the 
beauties  of  their  own  native  tongue." 

In  the  good  old  days  of  seclusion,  the  people  of 
this  province  formed  a  nation  within  a  nation.  Then 
Frisia  was  a  happy  land  and  "  a  garden  sealed." 
Then  it  was  quite  easy  to  believe  the  old  chroniclers, 
who  told  of  Frisians  who  had  gone  all  over  the  world 
to  found  cities  and  dynasties.  These  stories  read 
like  the  marvels  in  Lempriere's  Classical  Diction- 
ary, and,  alas,  like  these,  are  manifestly  but  fungus 
growths  of  myth  upon  dead  words.  The  modern 
Frisian  who  masters  philology  and  reads  critical  his- 
tories can  no  longer  accept  the  popular  etymolo- 
gies. Of  many  of  the  golden  fables  which  in  Frisian 
"  terp  "  and  "  dorp,"  in  farmhouse  and  castle,  long 
passed  for  actual  facts,  the  only  basis  has  been  in  a 
disease  of  language.  Let  us  glance  at  some  of  these 
colossal  mushroom  growths  of  mythology. 

One  chronicler  avers  that  Frisians  founded  Athens, 
which  is  called  Friends,  and  also  Marseilles,  which 
is  named  Masselia,  that  is,  a  bad  bargain,  in  old 


DOKKUM  AND  OUR  PAGAN   FORBEARS      103 

Frisian.  It  is  written  that  Frisians  first  visited  the 
tin  mines  of  England,  that  they  named  them  Scilly, 
and  banished  thither  their  criminals ;  that  Frisians 
were  on  Nearchus's  fleet  in  India,  and  that  even  the 
Greeks,  who,  in  the  time  of  Cadmus  and  Cecrops,  had 
colonies  planted  among  them,  owe  Friesland  a  debt 
of  gratitude  for  their  civilization ;  that  the  burning 
lamps  of  the  Vestals  of  Rome  had  their  origin  in 
the  rites  of  Frisian  worship.  Even  our  old  friend 
Neptune  was  nothing  more  than  a  Frisian  pirate 
who  frequented  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  for  is  not 
his  name  in  Frisian  "  Nef  Tunis,"  that  is.  Cousin 
Tunis  ?  May  not,  then,  American  Dutchmen  named 
Tennis  be  inclined  to  trace  their  genealogy  back 
into  the  myths  of  Frisco-Roman  antiquity  ?  These 
golden-haired  and  blue-eyed  people  even  argue  that 
their  ancestors  gave  the  Himalaya  Mountains  their 
name,  —  "  wher  ja  de  Himmel  laya  hinne,"  —  where 
you  can  reach  the  sky.  Indeed,  not  more  wonderful 
in  color,  form,  and  power  than  the  sublimed  products 
of  coal  tar  are  the  iridian  films  that  float  on  the 
stream  of  legend  and  fancy,  beneath  which  lie  the 
words  that  are  almost  worshiped.  No  Chinese  or 
Welshman  clings  to  his  ancestral  speech  more  tena- 
ciously than  does  the  Frisian  boer. 

After  comparing  the  Frisian  vocabulary  and  sen- 
tences either  with  the  Scotch  or  with  the  English  of 
over  a  thousand  years  ago,  one  wonders  no  longer 
that  both  the  Englishmen,  Wilfrid  in  the  eighth 
and  Winifred  in  the  ninth  century,  were  able  to 
come  over  from  England  and  talk  to  these  people 
without  an  interpreter.     How  and  why  the  latter. 


104  THE  AMERICAN  IN   HOLLAND 

Boniface,  came  to  die  the  martyr's  death,  will  doubt- 
less be  told  in  one  way  by  the  Roman  Catholic  his- 
torians, who  wish  to  confirm  the  approved  theories 
and  version  of  their  history,  and  in  an  entirely  dif- 
ferent way  by  ultra-Protestant  and  radical  German 
historians,  who  aim  to  glorify  their  race,  ancestry, 
theology,  and  church  polity. 


GRONINGEN 


CHAPTER  XII 
groningen:  province  and  city 

Groningen,  or  the  green  province,  is  the  most 
northeastern  of  the  eleven  divisions  of  the  kingdom. 
It  stretches  between  the  heaths  and  morasses  of 
Drenthe  and  the  salt-water  shallows  of  the  North 
Sea.  Lying  next  to  Prussia  as  it  does,  it  holds  the 
gateway  into  Germany  through  which,  from  the 
dawn  of  history,  Teutonic  invaders  have  entered, 
and  through  which,  in  reverse  order,  Roman  armies 
have  marched.  The  great  Bourtange  morass  defends 
it  from  the  entrance  of  armies,  and  only  in  the  north- 
ern part  can  an  invasion  be  made.  Here,  therefore, 
where  the  railway  enters,  is  one  of  the  strong  mod- 
ern fortresses  of  the  kingdom,  guarding  what  is  as 
important  as  a  mountain  pass. 

Three  centuries  ago  much  of  this  region  was 
swamp  land,  —  a  terror  in  winter,  a  festering  mass 
in  summer.  By  unremitting  toil,  continued  during 
many  generations,  the  soil  has  been  rescued  to  fer- 
tility, canals  have  been  cut,  drains  everywhere  made, 
and  dikes  built.  Steadily  the  dragon  of  malaria 
and  the  ghosts  of  sterility  have  been  driven  back. 
Now  the  golden  fleece  spread  over  the  landscape 
invites  the  children  of  men  not  only  to  work,  but  to 
play  and   to  happiness.     Eight  centuries  ago  only 


108  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

six  hundred  square  miles  in  Nederland  were  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  tides.  Twenty  times  this  amount, 
or  twelve  thousand  square  miles,  have  been  won 
from  river,  sea,  and  lake  by  dikes  and  drainage. 
With  such  a  record,  the  Dutchman  may  drain  the 
Zuyder  Zee  and  add  eight  hundred  square  miles  to 
his  national  domain. 

From  Winschoten  of  pleasant  memory  I  started 
westward  again  for  the  city  of  Groningen,  passing 
on  the  way  one  of  those  places  called  Hoogezand,  or 
high  sand,  which  always  remind  me  of  the  Japanese 
Takasago,  —  of  exactly  similar  meaning  and  the 
theme  of  one  of  their  classic  operas,  —  where  live 
the  old  yet  perpetually  young  genii  who  preside 
over  marriage  and  that  wedded  love  which  in  fairy 
tale  and  often  in  reality  is  never  outworn.  The 
ancient  lore  of  Japan  locates  the  place  in  Formosa. 

As  to  the  history  of  the  city  of  Groningen,  some 
writers  find  its  beginnings  in  a  camp  or  fortification 
of  the  Roman  general  Corbulo.  Others  derive  its 
name  from  one  Gruno.  The  Northmen  ravaged  the 
place  in  a.  d.  837.  In  1110  it  was  walled  round  and 
defended  with  moats.  A  Christian  church  was  here 
A.  D.  1040.  The  city  was  then  called  Gruoninga. 
It  had  its  share  of  wars  and  sieges  in  the  frequent 
contentions  between  bishop,  count,  and  emperor. 

The  University  was  founded  in  1614,  as  a  memo- 
rial of  the  deliverance  of  the  city  and  province  from 
Spanish  rule.  When  Prince  Maurice  liberated  the 
city  and  province  in  1594,  plans  for  a  "  High 
School"  were  at  once  formed,  but  because  of  war 
and  poverty  twenty  years  elapsed  before  the  plan 
was  consummated.  • 


GRONINGEN  :  PROVINCE  AND  CITY         109 

Among  many  literary  treasures  which  I  enjoyed 
seeing  in  the  University  Library  were  the  manu- 
scripts of  Maerlant  bound  in  parchment.  These 
parchments,  when  yellow  or  dark  with  age,  like  the 
teeth  of  Judah,  may  be  made  "  white  with  milk," 
for  nothing,  I  am  told,  cleanses  old  "  perkament " 
like  the  fresh  product  of  the  cow.  As  handsome  as 
print  seemed  much  of  this  early  Dutch  poet's  writ- 
ing. Having  already  a  copy  of  Ubbo  Emmius's 
History,  I  was  glad  to  see  this  critical  historian's 
letters  and  papers.  Another  thick  book  of  manu- 
scripts of  Gerhardus  Groote,  from  which  the  printed 
accounts  have  since  been  made,  was  a  fine  specimen 
of  the  scholar's  work,  done  before  the  printing-press 
or  the  typewriter  came  into  vogue.  The  Latin 
School  at  Groningen  was  one  of  several  founded  by 
Groote  and  the  Brethren  of  the  Common  Life. 

Greatest  of  all  the  treasures  I  saw  here  was 
Luther's  copy  of  the  New  Testament  of  Erasmus, 
containing  the  received  text  of  "  King  James's  Ver- 
sion "  of  the  English  Bible.  Along  with  the  Greek 
text  were  notes  and  comments  in  Latin  by  the  great 
scholar  of  Rotterdam.  On  its  stout  leaves  also 
were  annotations,  underscorings,  and  remarks,  not 
always  complimentary,  by  Martin  Luther,  who  had 
read  it  evidently  with  eagerness  and  critical  judg- 
ment. The  great  German  father  of  modern  Bibli- 
cal criticism  shows  himself  here  in  a  very  free  mood. 
In  one  place  it  is  "  Ya !  Ya ! ;  "  in  another  "  nihil  " 
(nothing)  ;  again,  "  recht "  (right)  ;  again,  a  sen- 
tence which  we  translate,  "  You  are  not  religious ; " 
again,  "  non  "  (not)  ;  again,  "  I  'U  have  you,  you 


110  THE  AMERICAN  IN   HOLLAND 

rogue !  "  One  feels  very  near  the  fathers  of  the 
Reformation  as  he  looks  on  this  treasure  containing 
truth  which  no  fire  can  reduce  to  ashes. 

In  the  senate  chamber  were  the  portraits  of  the 
great  teachers,  among  which  I  was  glad  to  see  that 
of  Ubbo  Emmius,  whose  works  our  own  Madison, 
Father  of  the  Constitution,  read  carefully. 

The  history  of  the  University,  whose  motto  is  a 
Bible,  verba  Dei,  a  light  to  the  feet,  was  written  and 
published  in  1864  on  its  quarter-centennial  anniver- 
sary, by  W.  J.  A.  Jonckbloet,  then  Rector  Magni- 
ficus.  This  gentleman,  a  natural  son  of  a  king  of 
the  Netherlands,  and  traveler  in  the  United  States, 
is  well  known  as  the  historian  of  Dutch  literature 
(Geschiedenis  der  Nederlandsche  Letterkunde) .  He 
compiled  the  "  Gedenk  Boek,"  or  memorial  volume, 
with  his  usual  conscientiousness  and  literary  grace. 

In  1894  the  three  hundredth  anniversary  of  the 
deliverance  of  the  city  by  Maurice  was  celebrated 
with  an  imposing  procession  in  costume,  which  re- 
produced the  dress,  habits,  and  incidents  of  the 
event  of  three  centuries  before. 

In  its  spirit  Groningen  has  always  allied  itself  to 
that  meditating  school  of  theology  which  we  might 
name  the  Ethico-Irenical.  It  lays  emphasis  upon 
the  supreme  necessity  of  a  pure  moral  life,  seeking 
to  harmonize  the  various  tendencies  and  aspects  of 
thought,  and  to  unite  even  those  which  seem  to  be 
in  a  hostile  position  to  each  other. 

The  archives  of  the  city  of  Groningen  show  that 
the  province  of  this  name  began  its  evolution  into 
modern  life  through  the  growth  of  the  city  republic, 


GRONINGEN  :  PROVINCE  AND  CITY        111 

which  absorbed  the  Ommelanden,  or  surrounding 
districts.  Of  our  old  Friesland  home  the  western 
part  is  Dutch,  the  eastern  part  is  German.  The 
city,  by  gradually  dominating  the  eastern  part  of 
Frisia,  made  the  province  of  Groningen.  This,  like 
that  of  Utrecht,  takes  its  name  from  its  chief  city. 
It  was  in  1428  that  these  political  arrangements 
were  consummated.  Mimicipal  development  was 
largely  influenced  by  popular  religious  life.  There 
were  forty-three  cloisters  within  the  city's  bounds. 
Then,  as  now,  the  great  church  of  St.  Martin  was 
the  most  imposing  edifice  for  worship.  The  ar- 
chives, stored  in  their  handsome  new  depository,  are 
rich  in  records  of  the  old  brotherhoods  and  sister- 
hoods. Political,  religious,  and  industrial  prosper- 
ity went  on  apace.  One  set  of  symbols  seen  fre- 
quently in  Groningen  is  the  crossed  sword  and  file, 
with  the  rising  sun  in  the  background.  These  tools 
of  the  soldier  and  the  workman,  with  the  motto, 
"  Vindicat  atque  poUit  "  (he  defends  and  then  im- 
proves), refer  to  valiant  guardianship  and  the  peace 
and  civilization  which  followed  with  toil. 

Standing  on  a  great  plain,  Groningen  is  easily 
visible  from  afar  because  the  splendid  tower  of  St. 
Martin  rises  up  against  the  horizon.  In  1891  and 
1892  I  was  unable  to  appreciate  its  charm,  for  it 
was  then  covered  with  a  scaffolding.  But  in  1895 
I  found  stone  and  timber  divorced  from  each  other, 
—  a  happy  emblem  of  the  separation  of  church  and 
state.  The  tower,  cleansed  and  restored,  had  recov- 
ered its  youth  and  beauty,  and  on  the  bright  new 
stone  was  a  tablet  telling  the  story  of  the  renovation. 


112  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

On  the  new  sun-dial  placed  on  the  south  front  I 
read  the  time  1.30  p.  m.,  and  the  sweet  chimes  I 
remember  yet.  The  edifice  suffered  even  in  times 
before  the  Spanish  occupation,  when  the  great 
"  image-storm  "  of  the  Iconoclasts  burst  in  a  fury 
which  swept  out  of  it  its  images,  emblems,  and  a 
hideous  relic,  —  the  arm  of  John  the  Baptist. 

There  are  other  fine  churches  in  this  city.  One 
stands  at  the  end  of  a  long  square  west  of  the  fish- 
market  ;  and  a  splendid  new  Roman  Catholic  church 
is  also  noticeable.  Most  of  the  elegant  new  church 
buildings  in  the  Netherlands  belong  to  the  Roman 
form  of  the  faith.  It  is  unfortunate,  as  it  is  un- 
christian, that  the  various  sectarians  boycott  one 
another,  each  helping  his  own. 

From  the  tremendous  amount  of  whitewashing 
done  by  the  Dutch  in  their  sacred  edifices,  covering 
up  ancient  pictures  on  wall  and  column  and  obliter- 
ating mediaeval  monuments  of  art,  a  stranger  might 
imagine  that  the  Protestants  worshiped  whitewash, 
or  that  at  least  a  cultus  in  honor  of  some  old  heathen 
god  named  Calx,  or  goddess  Alba,  still  survived. 

Of  the  islands,  Texel,  Vlieland,  and  Terschelling 
belong  to  North  Holland ;  Schiermonnikoog,  Bosch, 
and  Rottum  to  Groningen.  They  are  not  over-popu- 
lated, and  in  them  it  is  always  afternoon.  Asking 
about  the  condition  of  things  there,  I  was  informed 
that  it  was  one  of  still  life  ;  that  a  cannon  planted 
in  the  centre,  loaded  with  grape,  and  fired  in  many 
directions  would  not  be  likely  to  hit  anybody. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

STORIES  TOLD   BY   RELICS   AND   ARMS 

Probably  no  people  pay  closer  attention  to  their 
archives,  or  keep  them  in  better  order,  than  do  the 
Dutch.  One  of  my  most  pleasing  experiences  in 
Groningen  was  a  visit  in  1895  to  the  splendid  new 
fireproof  building  in  which  the  archives  of  the  pro- 
vince are  preserved.  It  is  built  of  stone,  with  brick 
floors  and  fittings  of  iron,  and  is  well  lighted  and 
ventilated.  Everything  is  in  perfect  order,  and  the 
contents  are  well  indexed.  The  "  archivist "  is  Mr. 
Feith,  a  worthy  scion  of  an  old  and  illustrious  family 
in  the  province.  With  unfailing  courtesy  he  showed 
me  the  treasures  which  time  has  spared.  One  docu- 
ment gives  on  its  parchment  pages  the  provincial 
laws  from  1200  a.  d. 

A  great  line  of  demarcation  in  Dutch  history  was 
drawn  A.  D.  1795  between  medijBval  feudalism  and 
modern  democracy.  In  this  year,  through  the  in- 
fluence of  the  French  Republic,  all  guilds,  privileged 
orders,  and  companies  ceased  by  law.  Here,  also, 
are  the  interminable  annals  of  the  cloisters,  with 
thousands  of  lives  of  abbots.  One  may  see  also  the 
silver-lidded,  begemmed,  and  gorgeously  bound  re- 
cord-books of  the  trade  guilds.  These  were  all  broken 
up  by  the  French  Revolution,  which  in  spirit  and 


114  THE   AMERICAN   IN   HOLLAND 

form  overflowed  into  the  Netherlands,  abolishing 
monopoly,  privilege,  and  the  inheritances  from  feu- 
dal society. 

Noticeable  in  these  archives,  as  well  as  in  the  city, 
is  the  abundance  of  Scottish  names.  These  show 
how  much  closer  three  centuries  ago  than  now  were 
the  interests  which  bound  the  men  of  rock  and 
heather  to  their  brethren  of  the  swamp  and  sand, 
whose  languages,  descended  from  the  same  common 
ancestors,  are  so  much  alike. 

The  new  and  elegant  museum  stands  at  the  end 
of  Gansevoort  Singel,  fronting  the  Zuyder  haven. 
Here  are  gathered  up  the  relics  of  the  past.  An 
old  wooden  book -box  shows  that  the  schoolboy's 
bag  was  first  made  of  timber  before  it  evolved  into 
a  leather  satchel.  It  carried  the  horn  book,  which 
it  was  made  to  sheathe,  before  it  bore  stitched  and 
printed  volumes.  The  old  schoolmaster  was  a  lictor 
and  judge.  More  indispensable  than  the  sailor's 
spanker  boom  was  the  "  klap,"  consisting  of  a  wooden 
handle  and  disk,  which  fitted  to  and  warmed  up  the 
small  boy's  seat.  In  an  old  edition  of  the  Mennon- 
ite  Van  Braght's  "  Martyrs,"  or  "  Bloody  Theatre," 
I  have  seen  the  picture  of  a  Roman  schoolmaster 
and  Christian  condemned  to  be  tortured  to  death  by 
his  pagan  pupils.  He  holds  in  one  hand  his  "  klap," 
while  the  lads  stick  quill  pens  in  his  flesh,  and  beat 
him  with  their  wooden  satchels  and  horn  books. 

The  emblems  and  treasures  of  the  old  guilds  were 
delightful  to  look  at.     I  could  imagine  myself  back  * 
in  Japan,  where  I  used  to  see  the  potters,  bronze- 
smiths,  and  jewelers,  "  putting  their  brains  into  their 


STORIES  TOLD  BY  RELICS  AND  ARMS     115 

work,"  and  showing  individual  taste  and  humor  in 
their  handicraft.  Here  are  finely  carved  boxes, 
once  the  property  of  the  bakers',  coopers'  and  shoe- 
makers' guilds,  used  for  records  or  to  receive  the 
gifts  of  the  benevolent.  The  alms-box  of  the  book- 
sellers' guild  is  shaped  like  an  acorn,  but  since 
"  book  "  is  from  beech,  one  would  think  this  might 
have  been  in  the  form  of  a  beechnut.  The  butchers 
have  a  tablet.  On  a  hotel-keeper's  sign  is  a  picture 
of  Christ  at  Emmaus  breaking  bread,  —  a  favorite 
subject  with  Rembrandt.  I  am  glad  to  salute  a 
brother  craftsman,  dust  or  turf  though  now  he  may 
be  as  to  his  body,  —  one  Hendrik  Muntinghe,  who 
made  a  silver  coffee-pot  as  a  proof  piece  for  ad- 
mittance into  the  silversmiths'  guild.  The  rattan 
handle,  non-conductor  of  heat,  showed  that  he  had 
some  regard  for  the  nerves  of  the  lady  who  was  to 
pour  out  the  steaming  liquid. 

Here,  as  elsewhere  in  this  country  of  heavy  drink- 
ers, one  is  impressed  with  the  vastness  and  variety 
of  the  horns,  beakers,  goblets,  and  mugs.  These  are 
older  than  tea  and  coffee  pots  and  cups  and  saucers, 
even  as  alcohol  is,  in  Europe  at  least,  older  than 
theine. 

I  admire  a  prize  design  for  the  Heiligerlee  monu- 
ment. It  was  well  worthy  of  a  prize.  Certainly, 
the  one  in  place  is  not  beyond  criticism  as  a  work  of 
art. 

In  old  Groningen,  it  seems,  the  country  folk  were 
mostly  of  Frisian,  and  the  townspeople  largely  of 
Saxon  origin.  This  province  is  not  so  rich  in  heral- 
dic devices,  and  town  arms  are  not  so  numerous  as 


116  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

in  the  two  Hollands,  or  in  North  Brabant,  though 
here  are  not  a  few  seals  in  steel  and  silver.  Note 
on  the  shield  of  the  metropolis  a  double-necked  and 
two-headed  eagle,  and  above  it  a  crown.  On  either 
side  stands  another  bird  of  like  breed  on  one  foot, 
propping  up  the  blazonry  with  wing  and  claw.  Ap- 
pingadam  has  the  favorite  Dutch  symbol,  the  same 
which  William  of  Orange  inscribed  on  his  banners, 
of  the  young  pelicans  feeding  on  blood  from  the 
mother's  breast.  Middelstum  has  a  knight  on  foot 
in  full  armor  girt  with  sword,  holding  an  upright 
lance  ready  for  horse  or  joust ;  Bredewold,  a  warrior 
on  horseback,  about  to  transfix  a  dragon  through 
his  throat ;  Adawart  (Gijlvest),  an  equestrian  un- 
armed. Oudepekela  boasts  a  ship  of  mediaeval 
build  floating  on  the  waves,  with  six  turf  bricks  on 
its  shield ;  Winschoten  has  the  figure  of  a  monk, 
student,  or  clerk,  with  an  open  book  in  his  hand. 
Others  show  two  tiger  lilies  thriving  handsomely; 
a  rampant  eagle  above  the  railing  of  a  sluice  gate ; 
a  great  church  with  four  spires,  on  all  of  which  are 
crosses,  and  on  one  is  the  crowing  cock. 

Among  emblems  new  to  my  acquaintance,  at  least, 
is  the  highly  fantastic  long-tongued  lion  of  Finster- 
wolde,  with  a  triple  tail,  like  a  Japanese  goldfish,  a 
very  Dolly  Varden  among  lions.  Beerta  shows  us 
the  martyred  St.  Lawrence,  with  a  gridiron  in  his 
hand  and  an  aureole  encircling  his  head.  Lopper- 
zaan  has  the  sword  and  key.  Sappemeer  informs 
us,  by  a  plough  above  the  waves,  how  Dutch  farm- 
ers subdue  the  ocean.  Uithuizermeeden  has  a  mer- 
maid caught  within  the  paling  of  a  polder.     Sheaves 


ARMS  OF  THE  TOWNS   IN  GRONINGEN 


STORIES  TOLD  BY  RELICS  AND  ARMS     117 

of  wheat  and  a  clover  leaf  over  the  motto  "  Ex  undis  " 
tell  of  Uithuizen.  A  winged  Mercury  and  two 
modern  and  effeminate-looking  Vulcans  stand  on 
opposite  sides  of  the  shield  of  Delfzijl,  while  a  fouled 
anchor  and  the  hammer  and  the  caduceus  are  added. 
Winsum  has  the  winsome  picture  of  a  knight  with 
pen  and  spear.  He  is  riding  a  black  horse,  with  his 
lady  on  a  pillion  behind  him  ;  and  a  star  is  in  the 
rear.  This  device  reminds  one  of  an  early  American 
colonist  going  to  church. 

Bierum  shows  a  house  rising  above  the  waves ; 
Ulrum,  the  old  home  of  the  Frisian  pagan's  ice  god, 
on  the  lower  half  of  the  shield,  two  fishes,  and  on 
the  upper  half,  a  six-pointed  star  inside  of  a  cres- 
cent ;  Midwolda,  a  large  church  with  five  stars  over 
it;  Bellingwolde,  a  massive  basilica;  Beedum,  the 
two  tables  of  the  law  laid  upon  the  spade  and  cross. 
The  American  might,  for  his  town  arms,  cross  the 
rifle  and  the  axe  on  the  Ten  Commandments,  de- 
spite the  Kansas  politicians'  suggestion  that  the  lat- 
ter have  no  place  in  practical  politics.  Baflo  has  a 
lone  star.  Old  Stedum  boasts  a  knight  with  drawn 
sword.  New  Wildervank  displays  an  honest  heap 
of  turf,  with  a  modern-looking  man  in  roUed-up 
trousers,  one  hand  resting  on  the  shield  and  the 
other  on  a  turf  spade.  Upon  the  arms  of  the 
older  communities  are  wrought  various  relics  in 
every  style  of  graphic  symbol. 

The  maps  and  charts  show  how  glorious  Gro- 
ningen  appeared  in  the  old  days  of  war.  Then,  with 
her  mighty  moats,  imposing  gates,  and  sixteen  bas- 
tions, she  defied  her  enemy.     History  here  moves  in 


118  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

procession  from  the  unlettered  knight  of  the  dim 
past  to  the  present  well-educated  private  soldier. 
Prehistoric  life  on  the  "  terpen  "  (here  called  ''  wier- 
den  ")  is  illustrated  by  relics  bearing  on  them  marks 
of  human  workmanship,  the  great  stag  horns  and 
bear's  teeth ;  flutes,  combs,  styluses  and  awls,  pick- 
axes and  hammers,  fashioned  from  bone;  chisels, 
arrow  and  spear  heads,  scrapers,  burnishers,  and 
coffins  made  of  stone. 

Then  follows  the  age  of  bronze.  Here  are  scissors 
and  bracelets,  shield  bosses  and  scales,  weapons  to 
thrust,  cut,  and  shoot  with,  or  to  hurl.  In  imagina- 
tion we  tramp  with  the  Eomans,  as  they  march  with 
Drusus  or  Corbulo,  look  out  from  the  tumuli  over 
the  North  Sea,  or  move  eastward  to  their  destruc- 
tion at  Teutoberg.  In  the  days  of  the  legions,  the 
landscape  must  have  been  vastly  different  from  our 
time,  —  only  alternate  hard  land  and  morass.  Here 
are  coins,  copper  and  silver,  the  soldier's  honor- 
medals,  mantle  holders,  safety  pins,  and  knick- 
knacks  of  all  sorts,  once  made  in  Italy,  and  dug  up 
from  the  soil  of  this  city. 

The  Christian  emblems  are  next  in  order  of  time. 
A  great  baptismal  font  of  stone  from  Eenrum  is  big 
enough  for  Radbod  to  have  stood  in  knee  deep.  On 
this  very  day  we  find  that  the  janitor's  child,  in  his 
play,  has  hidden  his  toy  horse  and  wagon  in  it.  An- 
other font  from  Dorkweerd  is  literally  a  great  tub, 
in  which  people  were  immersed.  Amber  ornaments 
are  abundant.  The  old  copper  church  basins  are 
quaintly  engraved.  Indeed,  the  number  of  basins 
is  wonderful.     In  the  days  before  forks,  and  even 


STORIES  TOLD  BY  RELICS  AND   ARMS     119 

down  to  the  seventeentli  century,  finger  bowls  after 
eating  were  a  thrice  daily  necessity,  and  such  are 
most  of  these  copper  vessels  for  cleansing  hands 
after  meals.  Many  relics  are  survivals  of  the  Span- 
ish time,  such  as  a  hooped  cannon  or  bombardier  of 
the  fifteenth  century,  which  tumbled  into  the  canal, 
slept  in  the  ooze  for  three  centuries,  to  wake  up, 
like  some  Rip  Van  Winkle,  beside  the  Krupp  can- 
non of  to-day.  Certain  iron  helmets  with  their  vi- 
zors are  from  a  church,  which  might  almost  be  called 
Ting-a-ling,  for  it  has  the  tintinnabulous  name, 
Kerk  Te  Tinallinge.  Near  the  headgear  are  old 
fossil  gauntlets. 

The  age  of  tobacco  is  well  illustrated.  Beside 
the  ancient  pipes  is  a  package  of  the  weed  prepared 
during  the  French  rule,  when  the  product  of  Vir- 
ginia was  the  monopoly  of  the  state.  An  old  iron 
fireplace  back  shows  the  Annunciation,  and  another, 
Mercury  sitting  at  a  bellows. 

In  the  rear  of  the  University  a  bit  of  old  fortifi- 
cation still  recalls  the  siege  of  Groningen  by  the 
Bishop  of  Miinster,  ally  of  the  French  Louis  XIV. 
Then  it  was  that  the  phrase  "  chevaux  de  Frise  " 
came  into  military  language.  The  wooden  abatis, 
which  looked  like  creatures  with  heads  and  legs, 
were  dubbed  "  horses  of  Frisia."  In  one  form  or 
another,  they  have  been  the  hobby  of  defenders 
ever  since.  I  saw  miles  of  them  in  front  of  Lee's 
intrenchments.  Our  boys  remember  them  well  be- 
fore Petersburg.  Such  war  horses  must  be  fought 
with  fire  and  axes. 

In  much  later  time  the  Groningen  students  formed 


120  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

a  company  under  the  banner  of  the  kingdom. 
Here  is  a  figure  of  a  Flankeur  of  1830,  with  flint- 
lock musket,  on  whose  cap  front  is  the  orange 
button,  the  crossed  sword  and  file,  and  the  motto 
"  True  to  King  and  Fatherland,"  the  crown  bearing 
the  letter  W  for  King  William.  Many  of  the  lads, 
leaving  the  class-room,  fought  in  the  war  of  1830. 
Near  by  is  the  banner  of  the  Metal  Cross  Union. 

A  reader  of  Hawthorne  is  interested  in  seeing  a 
picture  of  the  Kaak,  or  Schandaal,  which  once  stood 
in  the  great  marketplace  of  the  city.  The  words 
mean  "  pillory  "  or  "  scandal-post."  This  was  nothing 
less  than  the  judgment  seat,  and  the  Teutonic  origi- 
nal of  the  same  which  Hawthorne,  in  his  "  Scarlet 
Letter,"  has  made  so  vivid  to  us.  Above  the  seat, 
with  its  steps  and  railing,  was  a  pole  rising  from  the 
centre,  with  the  figure  of  Justice  on  its  top.  In  the 
old  Dutch  cities  the  market  square  —  almost  al- 
ways an  open  green  or  common  —  was  the  centre 
of  popular  gatherings  as  well  as  for  public  display 
and  official  advertisement  of  both  honor  and  shame. 
The  Saxo-Frisians  introduced  this  feature  of  town 
life  into  England,  and  thence  their  descendants 
brought  it  into  America. 

Looking  from  my  hotel  window  into  the  market 
square,  I  called  back  in  imagination  the  half-naked 
Teutons  in  skins,  the  Eomans  in  shining  brass,  the 
first  Christian  missionaries  with  the  cross,  the  Span- 
iards in  their  steel,  the  Dutch  liberators  and  their 
English  allies.  Each  of  these,  in  his  turn,  was  a 
representative  of  his  day.  Now  at  last  come  the 
Salvation  Army  and  the  great  host  of  physicians  to 


STORIES  TOLD  BY  RELICS  AND  ARMS     121 

usher  in  the  day  when  the  preservation  of  life  and 
the  saving  of  the  soul  shall  be  deemed  more  im- 
portant than  the  warrior's  craft  and  the  trade  of 
war.  So  may  the  Netherlands  ever  love  the  vic- 
tories of  peace,  and  our  country  ever  be  "  The  Great 
Pacific  Power." 


DRENTHE 


CHAPTER  XIV 

DRENTHE   HEATHS   AND   GIANTS'    GRAVES 

Drenthe  is  the  most  thinly  inhabited  of  the 
eleven  divisions  of  the  kingdom.  It  is  set  like  a 
wedge  between  the  three  other  northern  provinces, 
is  entirely  inland,  having  no  seacoast,  borders  on 
Germany,  and  is  the  poorest  of  all  the  provinces. 
But  one  railway  traverses  it,  and  that  from  north  to 
south,  though  in  the  southwestern  corner  another 
line  runs  for  a  few  miles  from  Meppel.  No  large 
rivers  flow  within  its  boundaries,  though  a  number 
of  small  streams  act  as  drains.  Most  of  these  go  by 
the  name  of  Aa,  a  word  which  means  water.  Various 
artificial  highways,  canals,  or  "  vaarten,"  help  to 
keep  Drenthe  from  being  a  stagnant  morass. 

In  the  western  parts  there  is  a  line  of  sandhills, 
but  we  miss  here  the  term  "  berg,"  so  freely  used  in 
other  provinces,  meaning  hills,  or  even  what  natives 
fondly  consider  to  be  mountains.  For  compensation, 
the  terminations  "  veen,"  or  turf,  and  "  wold,"  heath 
or  prairie,  are  abundant.  No  very  small  villages  or 
communities  having  less  than  eight  hundred  people 
are  found  in  Drenthe,  and  its  cities  number  but 
four,  —  Assen,  the  capital,  in  the  north  and  centre, 
Meppel,  Hoogeveen,  and  Coevorden,  along  the  south- 
ern border.  Its  total  area  is  1032  square  miles,  and 
its  population  135,000. 


126  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Yet  Drenthe  has  advantages  all  its  own.  It  is 
not  likely,  as  are  the  other  provinces  which  touch 
the  sea,  to  be  drowned  out  in  case  of  flood  or  tidal 
wave,  for  the  greater  part  of  its  area  is  many  metres 
above  the  ocean's  highest  water.  Hence  Drenthe 
spends  no  money  upon  sea  dikes  or  walls,  and  there 
is  not  a  custom  house  in  the  province. 

Though  traversing  this  least-peopled  province 
three  different  times  on  the  iron  rail,  it  was  not 
until  July,  1895,  that  I  could  take  leisure  on  foot  to 
examine  its  two  especial  peculiarities.  These  are  its 
wonderful  heaths,  so  rich  in  all  that  pleases  an  artist's 
eye,  and  the  "  hunnebedden,"  or  "  giants'  graves," 
—  relics  of  the  prehistoric  days.  A  young  lady 
friend  in  Groningen  pictured  to  me  the  splendors  of 
color  and  the  wonderful  changes  of  light  on  the 
heaths  at  sunrise  and  sunset.  In  glow  and  shadow, 
in  dry  and  moist  weather,  there  was  variety  enough 
to  charm  a  poet.  So  I  resolved  to  see  these  marvel- 
ous moors,  to  which  painters  come  from  all  parts  of 
Europe. 

Taking  a  very  early  morning  train,  I  rode  between 
chicory  gardens,  acres  of  fluffy,  cotton-like  wild 
flowers,  crossed  the  Drentsche  Aa,  or  water,  and 
was  soon  over  the  border  of  this  furzy  land  of  turf. 
Getting  off  at  Assen,  the  pretty  little  capital  city,  I 
set  my  face  toward  Germany,  walking  for  an  hour, 
from  8.30  A.  M.,  over  the  clean  brick  road,  which  in 
places  was  being  repaired.  On  either  side  groups  of 
men  were  in  the  underbrush  cutting  the  saplings 
into  pieces  about  two  feet  long.  These  fagots  they 
tied   into  bundles,  of  about  a  dozen  pieces,  with 


DRENTHE  HEATHS  AND  GIANTS'  GRAVES    127 

withes,  the  leaves  of  which  were  left  on,  as  a  neat 
decoration.  These  were  to  be  fuel  for  heating  waf- 
fle-irons, and  for  baking  the  "  poffertjes,"  regarded 
by  the  people  during  Kermis  as  a  great  delicacy. 
During  summer  heats  men  come  from  Over-Ijssel, 
and  farther  south,  in  large  numbers  to  cut  this  fes- 
tive fuel. 

I  reached  Rolde  and  admired  its  overarching 
trees,  which  seemed  to  form  a  cathedral  aisle.  Pass- 
ing through  the  village  and  the  churchyard,  after 
inquiring  of  two  delving  Dutchmen,  I  saw  the  so- 
called  giants'  graves.  There  was  a  pair  of  them, 
each  consisting  of  several  stones,  and  having  the 
general  shape  of  a  colossal  turtle.  The  covered  top- 
stone  rested  on  smaller  boulders  or  pillars  beneath. 
Each  cromlech  was  two  or  three  times  bigger  than 
the  Plymouth  Rock,  —  not  of  rhetoric,  but  of  reality. 
An  old  oak-tree  and  a  young  one  had  been  planted 
alongside.  Neat  paths  a  yard  or  so  wide,  macad- 
amized and  sod-bordered,  had  recently  been  made. 
Along  these  were  placed  wooden  sign-boards,  with 
the  letters  R.  E.  (Rijks  Eigendom)  ;  that  is,  national 
property.  Further  afield  were  other  less  perfect  dol- 
mens, or  cromlechs,  locally  called  "  hunnebedden." 
I  counted  the  top-stones,  which  were  six,  and  the 
smaller  ones  on  the  ground,  which  were  seventeen. 

These  masses  of  granite,  well  grown  over  with 
lichen,  showed  the  result  of  ages  of  weathering. 
They  were  probably  boulders  brought  down  by  gla- 
ciers from  Norway  and  stranded  here,  possibly  be- 
fore man  came  upon  the  earth.  They  came  down 
from  the  North  and  crossed  state  boundaries  free  of 


128  THE  AMERICAN  IN   HOLLAND 

duty,  before  tariffs  were  invented,  as  did  Plymouth 
Rock  from  Canada.  They  belong,  geologically  and 
sentimentally,  with  those  famous  pebbles,  like  the 
Stone  of  Scone,  the  St.  Petersburg  base  of  great 
Czar  Peter's  monument,  the  Rhode  Island  memorial 
to  the  Narragansett  chief  Canonicus.  Before  human 
hands  touched  them,  they  had  an  inscription  of 
striae,  now  easily  read  by  the  devout  man  of  science, 
"  Deus  fecit." 

Yet  as  they  stand,  they  betoken  human  industry. 
They  are  edifices  of  some  sort.  Man  made  them, 
but  why,  and  for  what?  Imagination  is  touched 
and  kindled.  We  picture  the  builders,  half  clad  in 
skins,  with  their  rude  tools,  vehicles,  and  levers. 
Most  probably  they  were  Kelts  ;  after  them  followed 
the  Teutons.  The  Romans  looked  on  these  dolmens 
with  wonder,  and,  returning  to  Italy,  told  Tacitus 
their  story,  who  tells  his  to  us.  The  first  Christian 
missionaries,  the  mediaeval  monks,  knights,  and  war- 
riors, the  Spanish  invaders,  and  the  modern  folk  of 
all  kinds,  have  made  visits  to  this  place  to  wonder 
and  go  away  ignorant.  One  would  like  to  know 
whether  local  folk-lore  has  clustered  around  these 
phenomena  of  human  history,  even  as  the  heraldry 
of  the  lichen  decorates  them.  All  around  are  the 
wolds,  coaxed  into  fertility  by  man's  incessant  labor, 
the  fields  white  with  buckwheat  and  potato  blossoms, 
the  clouds  wandering  in  the  sky,  and  the  breezes 
making  the  wild  oaks  whisper  tales  which  imagina- 
tion interprets. 

A  few  yards  off  to  the  northeast  was  another  of 
these  mysterious  groups.    The  great  stones  had  some- 


DRENTHE  HEATHS  AND  GIANTS'  GRAVES    129 

what  fallen,  and  were  more  disorderly.  An  old 
oak,  which  had  overshadowed  both  monument  and 
visitors,  was  but  a  rotten  stump.  Another  tree 
was  flourishing  and  had  grown  around  some  of  the 
stones,  which  numbered  thirty-two  in  all.  More 
than  the  first,  this  group  reminded  me  of  the  bar- 
rows or  skull  heaps  on  old  battlefields  in  Japan. 
Of  course  the  Dutch  John  Smith  had  numerously 
carved  his  name  here. 

These  rude  structures,  of  Kelto-Cimbrian  origin, 
were  probably  the  monuments  of  some  ancient  and 
forgotten  religion.  Christian  legend  recognizes  in 
them  the  work  of  demons,  or  of  the  Huns.  Yet 
even  after  Christianity  had  shed  its  light  over  these 
lonely  wolds,  pilgrims  came  with  awe  to  visit  these 
bones  and  skeletons  of  a  dead  faith.  Being  regarded 
as  fetiches,  they  were  secretly  made  objects  of  rever- 
ence. Is  it  not  a  law  that  the  handsome  image  is 
admired  while  the  ugly  idol  is  adored?  It  is  need- 
less to  go  into  local  legends,  which  connect  the  work 
with  Hercules  and  other  heroes  of  mythology.  It 
was  the  weakness  of  the  mediaeval  Dutch  to  suppose 
that  the  classical  heroes  were  their  immediate  or 
remote  patrons,  ancestors,  or  culture-heroes.  Like 
the  Scottish  folk  who,  when  Christianized,  believed 
the  Stone  of  Scone  to  be  Jacob's  pillow,  so  local 
theories  of  the  Syrian  origin  of  these  erratic  boulders 
are  rife. 

The  word  "  hunnebedden,"  at  first  sight,  would 
mean  the  beds  of  the  Huns,  but  a  Dutch  scholar 
declares  that  the  old  word  "  hun  "  means  dead,  the 
"  hunnebedden  "  being  the  resting-places  of  the  dead. 


130  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

The  term  "  giants'  graves  "  came  into  vogue  after  the 
learned  Jean  Picardt,  pastor  of  Coevorden,  not  only 
attributed  them  to  the  work  of  giants,  but  even 
described  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  builders. 
Learned  scholars  have  written  voluminously  about 
them,  but  no  certain  light  has  yet  fallen  upon  the 
anonymous  architecture.  Hofdijk's  pictures  are  fas- 
cinating but  fanciful. 

The  monuments,  and  especially  the  earth  around 
them,  have  suffered  from  the  same  tendency  dis- 
played in  men  who  have  honeycombed  New  Jersey's 
sandy  soil  in  search  of  Captain  Kidd's  imaginary 
treasure.  In  "  the  French  time,"  that  is,  early  in 
this  century,  a  band  of  marauders  dug  up  the 
ground  under  the  "  hunnebedden."  Imagining  that 
they  contained  treasure,  the  diggers  ruthlessly  de- 
stroyed the  urns,  pottery,  and  other  relics  which 
they  found,  without  disclosing  whether  anything  of 
value  in  their  eyes  had  been  unearthed.  Despite  the 
vandalism  of  centuries,  there  are  stiU  over  fifty  of 
these  prehistoric  structures  on  the  soil  of  Drenthe, 
besides  considerable  numbers  of  tumuli  and  "  graf- 
kelders,"  or  mortuary  chambers.  One  may  see  the 
stone  coffins  and  the  relics  taken  from  them  in  the 
museums  of  the  province.  Near  Borger  there  are 
eleven  "  hunnebedden  ;  "  at  Emnen,  nine ;  at  Odoorn, 
eight ;  and  near  Anloo,  seven.  Most  of  these  have 
become  the  property  of  the  national  government, 
and  are  carefully  protected  and  preserved.  Amor- 
phous as  they  are,  without  inscription  or  sculpture 
except  striae,  untouched  by  the  graving  tool,  they 
are  yet  of  the  highest  interest.     It  is  possible,  as  at 


DRENTHE  HEATHS  AND  GIANTS'  GRAVES    131 

Zuidlaren,  to  catch  glimpses  of  them  from  the  win- 
dows of  the  railway  car. 

Out  on  these  vast  heaths  or  prairies,  through 
which  one  passes  from  Assen  to  Hoogeveen,  and 
thence  to  Coevorden,  we  realize  how  the  word  "  hea- 
then "  came  to  mean  what  it  does.  Christianity 
grew  up  first  in  the  cities,  the  centres  of  light,  know- 
ledge, culture,  and  refinement.  The  religion  of  Jesus 
was  early  associated  with  the  bloom  and  joy  of  things 
social,  while  among  the  "  pagani,"  or  villagers,  of  the 
Roman  world,  the  new  doctrines  were  slower  in  com- 
ing ;  and  so  in  the  old  seats  of  culture,  the  rustic  folk 
were  Pagans.  In  the  north  and  west  of  Europe 
Christianity  followed  the  lines  of  trade  and  com- 
merce. It  was  in  the  wooden  cities  that  the  rude 
church,  or  chapel,  was  first  built.  In  the  strong 
castle  of  the  noble  the  harp  of  the  minstrel  first 
resounded.  The  people  dwelling  within  towns  and 
villages  became  Christians  long  before  those  scat- 
tered on  the  heaths  heard  of  or  would  accept  the 
gospel,  and  so  the  heath-men  remained  heathen. 

To-day  the  term  "  heathen  "  lingers  long  after  its 
meaning  has  been  forgotten.  It  is  tinged  with  con- 
tempt, has  a  sense  of  remoteness,  is  popular  rather 
than  scientific.  It  is  that  of  the  uncultured  and  of 
those  whose  historical  sense  is  not  keen,  for  the  word 
is  absurdly  used  when  applied  to  refined  Japanese, 
educated  Chinamen,  and  to  our  intellectual  kinsmen, 
distant  in  time  but  really  near  in  language  and 
thought,  —  the  polished  Hindoos.  The  scholar 
knows  better.  In  the  Revised  Version  of  the  Bible 
the  term  "  heathen  "  is  expunged,  the  term  and  the 


132  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

idea  being  absent  from  the  originals  which  speak  of 
nations. 

In  my  childhood  I  read  with  fascination  Fenimore 
Cooper's  romance,  "The  Heidenmauer,  or  Heath 
Wall."  To-day  as  I  ride  over  the  vast  "  heiden," 
passing  on  the  right  a  village  called  Huis  Ter 
Heide,  I  think  also  of  the  song  I  once  heard  sung  in 
German  by  a  sweet  maiden  years  ago,  of  the  flower 
"  Auf  der  Heide."  I  find  these  desolate  moors 
exercising  a  powerful  spell  over  the  imagination. 
I  am  glad  I  have  seen  the  heath  in  its  morning 
dew,  glistening  in  the  sunshine,  rich  in  prismatic 
tints,  and  varying  in  all  the  hues  that  come  from 
the  changes  of  light,  influenced  as  they  are  by  the 
density  or  thinness  of  the  mist.  As  with  beaten 
gold  the  color  varies  according  as  the  vegetation  is 
looked  at  through  reflected  or  transmitted  light. 

On  these  moors,  many  miles  away  from  city  or 
town,  the  life  of  the  peasant  is  exceedingly  simple. 
Here  is  a  turf  house  reminding  us  of  the  sod 
"shacks,"  forked  together  by  the  new  immigrant 
in  Dakota.  A  tiny  frame  with  four  small  panes  of 
glass  lets  in  the  light.  Out  from  the  chimney  comes 
the  not  unpleasant  odor  from  fuel  which  is  of  the 
same  material  as  the  walls.  Back  of  the  house  are 
banks  of  sod  built  strong  and  high  to  keep  off  the 
winds,  which  in  winter  must  be  as  terrific  in  force 
as  on  our  western  prairies.  With  no  luxury  of  food, 
indeed  often  with  not  enough,  the  people  here  lived 
in  poverty  of  mind  as  well  as  body,  content  with 
what  they  called  home.  Only  within  the  present 
century  have  they  been  furnished  with  the  benefits 


DRENTHE  HEATHS  AND  GIANTS'  GRAVES    133 

of  school  and  newspaper.  Even  yet  it  is  hard  for 
them  to  get  the  privileges  of  social  religion. 

I  rode  back  from  Rolde  on  a  springless  farmer's 
cart  set  high  up  on  its  axle.  The  horse  was  geared 
as  if  within  the  shafts  of  a  chariot.  On  the  front 
seat  was  a  healthy  young  farmer,  and  beside  him 
his  wife,  young,  bright-eyed,  and  with  bulging  red 
cheeks.  The  only  other  cargo,  beside  the  Ameri- 
can traveler,  consisted  of  an  empty  beer  keg  and  a 
bag  of  grass  for  the  horse's  lunch.  I  had  choice  of 
a  seat  between  the  hard  oak  of  the  keg  and  the  soft 
mattress-like  bag.  Reluctant  to  pose  as  King  Gam- 
brinus,  I  sat  on  the  fodder. 

The  golden  skull-cap  of  the  farmer's  bride  was  so 
dazzlingly  bright  that  it  furnished  me  with  a  mirror 
in  which  I  could  see  reflected  the  whole  landscape. 
The  trees,  the  birds,  the  patches  of  blue  sky,  and  the 
moving  clouds  were  all  visible  as  in  a  camera,  and  I 
could  tell  what  was  behind  me  without  turning  my 
head.  It  occurred  to  me  that  it  would  be  well  to 
introduce  this  fashion  of  headgear  into  the  country 
churches  of  America,  so  that  the  preacher  would  not 
have  to  gaze  upon  the  back  hair  of  his  congregation 
whenever  a  newcomer  entered. 

Along  the  road  were  wagons  well  loaded  for  the 
swine  market  in  Assen,  in  which  were  many  other 
heads  clad  with  metal.  Some  of  these  gold  helms 
enveloped  the  whole  skull.  Others  were  slit  open 
widely  enough  for  a  Japanese  top-knot  to  rise 
through.  Did  not  the  name  William,  or  "  gild-helm," 
arise  in  this  region  of  Willems  and  Wilhelminas? 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE    TURF-YARD   OF  THE   KINGDOM 

AsSEN  is  the  Hoofdstad,  that  is,  the  head  city  or 
capital  of  Drenthe.  Long  ago  it  spread  beyond  the 
old  limits  of  a  fortress.  To-day  some  of  the  widest 
streets  are  outside  the  "  singel,"  or  outer  moat.  Like 
the  American  Ithaca,  it  is  a  "  forest  city,"  for  Assen 
is  almost  hidden  at  first  among  the  magnificent  trees 
which  grow  in  and  around  it.  Beeches,  pines,  and 
oaks  delight  the  eye  that  loves  these  "  trees  of  God  " 
which  are  "fat  and  flourishing."  Large  areas  of  the 
municipality  are  but  gardens  and  carefully  kept 
forests.  The  great  open  square  is  called  the  Brink. 
Besides  other  old  families  famous  in  Dutch  history, 
that  of  Ten  Brink,  which  may  have  originated  here, 
is  gratefully  known  to  all  students  of  literature  both 
Dutch  and  English. 

Great  is  the  family  of  the  Brinks  and  Brinkers. 
The  word  "  brink  "  suggests  to  us  the  edges  of  cliffs, 
precipices,  the  high  places  from  which  one  looks 
down  into  danger  below.  The  word  is  of  Scandina- 
vian origin,  and  itself  makes  a  mind-picture  of  the 
hilly  landscapes  where  from  heights  there  are  rocks 
and  ravines  below.  Yet  properly  the  idea  is  that  of 
a  slope,  as  Wiclif  rendered  John  xxi.  6,  —  "  Jesus 
stood  on  the  brink  of  the  lake ;  "  and,  radically,  a 


THE  TURF-YARD  OF  THE  KINGDOM       135 

rounded  hillock,  a  swell  of  the  bosom  of  mother 
earth. 

So  in  Assen.  Here  is  the  Brink,  but  no  steeps  or 
abysses  are  now  visible.  Yet  there  may  once  have 
been  a  rise  of  the  ground  at  this  point.  There  are 
at  least  fifteen  Dutch  towns  and  villages  with  this 
word  "  brink  "  in  their  names.  As  to  families,  who 
does  not  know  good  fellows  named  Ten  (at  the) 
Brink,  Brinkerhof ,  garden  or  court  of  the  dweller  at 
or  near  the  brink  ?  The  term  is  united  to  "  hurst," 
"house,"  "hof,"  "stein,"  "ma,"  or  "man,"  in  Ger- 
man, Dutch,  and  Frisian.  Most  of  those  with  the 
name  Brink  whom  we  have  known,  with  additions 
in  front  or  rear,  were  good  fellows,  both  male  and 
female.  Among  our  American  boys  and  girls,  young 
Hans  of  fiction  and  of  the  "  Silver  Skates  "  is  best 
known. 

The  tender  love  of  the  Dutch,  who  dwell  in  so  flat 
a  country,  for  brink  or  berg,  slope  or  height,  illus- 
trates the  law  of  compensation.  They  build  and 
admire  lofty  churches,  they  make  artificial  mounds 
in  their  gardens  to  give  themselves  view,  breadth  of 
vision,  and  picturesqueness.  In  all  the  various  pro- 
vinces I  have  noticed  this  tendency  to  break  mono- 
tony. It  is  as  intense  in  the  Dutchmen  as  was  the 
protest  of  the  Egyptian  against  the  desert  level,  for 
the  dwellers  by  the  Nile  built  obelisk,  pyramid, 
pylon,  and  sphinx,  to  cut  the  sky  line  and  diversify 
their  view. 

Fronting  the  Brink,  or  very  near  by  it,  are  the 
chief  shops,  public  edifices,  and  cafes.  One  loves  to 
linger  in  this  pretty  neighborhood.     The  shop  win- 


136  THE  AMERICAN  IN   HOLLAND 

dows  are  gay  with  red,  white,  and  blue  stuff  of  all 
sorts  and  qualities,  and  with  orange  ribbons,  in 
preparation  for  the  Queen's  visit,  fixed  for  the  10th 
of  September. 

The  house  of  the  provincial  legislature  is  a  new 
edifice,  with  superb  carvings  over  the  windows  and 
on  the  beams  representing  the  various  industrial 
trades.  On  the  walls  of  the  chamber  are  spirited 
paintings.  They  represent  the  evolution  of  civiliza- 
tion in  Drenthe,  from  the  builders  of  the  rude  gran- 
ite enigmas  at  Rolde  to  the  present  time.  Especially 
engaging  is  the  artist's  portrayal  of  female  life,  for 
he  attempts  to  represent  the  mothers  as  well  as  the 
fathers,  the  round-limbed  women  who  cheered  and 
fed  the  muscular  workmen  in  the  dim  unrecorded 
era  of  the  Celtic  Cimbrians. 

On  the  coat  of  arms  of  Drenthe  appears  a  church 
altar,  before  which  sits  the  Virgin  with  child,  a  star 
shining  over  her  forehead.  On  the  shield  of  Assen 
are  skinny-looking  heraldic  lions,  with  long  tongues 
like  pump  handles.  They  guard  a  gateway,  inside 
which  is  the  holy  mother  and  babe. 

After  the  usual  visit,  with  chat  under  the  shady 
trees,  at  the  shop  of  the  vender  of  books  and 
photographs,  rambles  along  the  Brink  and  through 
the  Kruis  (cross)  and  the  Markt  (market)  and  the 
Toren  (tower)  streets,  in  various  lanes,  by  the 
Singel,  and  in  the  market  where  the  pigs  squeal  and 
palms  are  clapped  together  for  bargains,  I  visit  the 
museum.  The  catalogues  and  a  pleasant  custodian 
help  to  a  delightful  hour  full  of  vision.  Here  are 
the  relics  of  peace  and  war  from  Coevorden  and 
other  places. 


THE  TURF-YARD  OF  THE  KINGDOM       137 

As  the  negroes  in  Virginia  after  the  war  subsisted 
for  a  while  by  selling  the  old  iron  and  lead,  hurled 
at  gold  prices  by  Lee  and  Grant  at  each  other,  so 
after  sieges,  some  compensation  came  to  the  poor 
people  of  Drenthe  in  exhuming  old  metal.  Here, 
however,  were  no  bombs  to  explode  twenty  years 
after  they  had  left  the  cannon's  mouth,  but  old  bows, 
arquebuses,  and  arrows,  footgear  of  all  sorts,  pulpit 
hour-glass,  utensils  from  the  stone,  the  bronze,  and 
the  iron  age,  rock  coffins  in  which  men  were  laid  for 
their  last  sleep,  and  urns  brim  full  of  proofs  of 
cremation, — "ashes  to  ashes."  Among  all  these 
fossils  of  history  were  two  that  riveted  attention 
and  set  the  imagination  spinning. 

One  was  an  old  boat  dug  up  recently  out  of  the 
fens.  It  was  high  at  the  stern  and  prow,  three  feet 
wide  and  thirty  feet  long.  Was  it  engaged  in  peace 
or  war  ?  Was  it  rowed  by  Norsemen,  with  a  raven 
as  pilot,  land-seeking  sentinel  at  the  prow  and  steers- 
man at  the  rear,  its  gunwale  lined  outside  with 
shields,  and  within  hardy  pirates  who  recked  not  of 
sun  heat  or  freezing  spray  ?  Who  can  tell  ?  What 
a  race  the  imagination  runs,  as  one  tries  to  fill  up 
the  story  which  this  boat  might  tell  were  its  oak  to 
grow  again  the  leaves  that  could  whisper  what  the 
sun  saw  a  thousand  years  ago ! 

The  other  object,  even  more  human  in  its  sugges- 
tions, was  an  old  leather  money  bag  from  the  time 
of  Charlemagne.  It  was  found  in  some  dry  place. 
It  contained  one  hundred  and  forty-three  pieces  of 
money  of  the  era  of  the  great  Charles.  There  on 
the  leather  is  a  perfectly  clear  impression  of  one  of 


138  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

the  coins.  Was  the  owner  a  miser,  a  generous  man, 
a  thrifty  father  and  home  provider,  or  a  gay  youth 
seeking  pleasure  ?  Was  he  robbed,  or  did  he  die  in 
his  bed  ? 

Very  homelike,  to  one  who  has  lived  on  the  native 
soil  of  the  Iroquois,  the  Mohawk  valley,  seemed 
certain  Indian  relics  sent  by  a  Dutchman  in  Amer- 
ica. Throughout  Drenthe  are  many  "  terpen,"  or 
tumuli,  but  the  choicest  trovers  have  been  taken  to 
museums  in  other  provinces. 

From  Assen  to  Hoogeveen  the  ride  was  over  a 
level  heath  full  of  varied  colors,  the  rosy  red  heather 
being  especially  conspicuous.  Above  the  stacks  of 
turf  and  over  the  superb  trees  rose  the  church  spires 
on  the  horizon.  In  many  places  there  was  but  a 
mere  furze  of  vegetation.  The  iron  highway  ran 
over  an  old  sea  bottom.  New  varieties  of  lace  caps 
were  visible  on  the  women's  heads.  Most  of  the 
boats  on  the  canals  were  loaded,  fathoms  high  above 
the  gunwale,  with  the  dried  fuel  dug  from  the 
ground.  Everywhere  the  earth  seemed  scarred  and 
gashed  by  the  spade,  for  in  Drenthe  the  Dutchman 
has  a  jealous  eye  for  any  part  of  his  native  soil  that 
can  be  turned  into  fuel. 

One  reads  a  new  meaning  into  Professor  Tyndall's 
"  heat  as  a  mode  of  motion."  The  turf  is,  after  all, 
but  condensed  sunbeams.  The  great  orb  first  gives 
life  to  the  sterile  earth  in  heather,  which  stores  up 
the  celestial  caloric,  and  in  the  course  of  centuries 
turns  into  peat  or  turf.  Out  of  the  most  barren  of 
the  Dutch  provinces  move  the  boats  laden  with 
potential  summer  and  carrying  new  climates  into 
wintry  homes. 


THE  TURF-YARD   OF  THE  KINGDOM       139 

I  had  arrived  at  Hoogeveen,  or  high  turf  (shall 
I  so  translate  its  name?),  on  my  way  south  from 
the  "giants'  graves"  of  Rolde,  intending  to  ride 
across  the  heaths  to  see  the  old  frontier  town,  famous 
for  its  many  battles  and  sieges,  and  having  much 
the  same  meaning  as  Bosphorus  or  Oxford,  that 
is,  Coevorden,  or  the  cow's  fords.  In  our  days  of 
declaration  of  war  by  telegraph,  when  armies  are 
quickly  transported  over  railways,  the  true  gateways 
of  frontiers  are  where  iron  roads  cross  the  boundaries 
of  a  state.  In  modern  Holland,  scores  of  forts  com- 
mand railways  or  canals,  and  steel  cupolas  are  built 
facing  channels,  over  which  point  the  long  arms  of 
steel  to  warn  off  invaders ;  but  in  the  old  days  a 
well-fortified  town  was  the  key  to  a  large  region  of 
country.  Even  yet  in  eastern  Netherlands,  the  chief 
defense  of  "  the  menaced  frontier  "  is  the  long  stretch 
of  the  Bourtange  morass  between  the  DoUart  and 
the  river  Lippe,  with  Coevorden  standing  on  a  piece 
of  solid  ground  amid  scores  of  miles  of  shaky  bogs 
extending  southward  and  eastward. 

What  is  true  in  our  days  was  more  impressively 
so  in  1592,  for  then  the  morass  extended  over  much 
of  what  is  now  dry  ground  stretching  toward  the 
Zuyder  Zee.  A  strip  of  hard,  dry  sand  which  led 
through  Coevorden  offered  a  causeway  and  the  only 
path  of  approach  to  an  enemy  from  the  east.  The 
Bostonian  is  reminded  of  the  old  road  which  at  high 
tide  narrowed  to  scarce  more  than  a  wagon's  width 
between  the  South  Bay  and  the  Back  Bay.  This 
strip  of  land  joined  old  Boston  to  Roxbury  very 
much  as  a  pond-lily  stem  holds  the  golden-hearted 


140  THE   AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

white  petals  to  the  ooze  beneath.  So,  like  a  great 
wall  of  defense,  on  Netherlands  was  this  mighty 
morass  crossed  by  one  natural  causeway  between 
water  and  ooze,  and  pierced  with  a  gateway  at  Coe- 
vorden.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  geology  dictated  the 
course  of  history. 

How  to  get  to  such  an  out-of-the-way  place  was  a 
question.  Even  the  canal  journey  thither  could  be 
taken  only  on  certain  days.  However,  from  a  friend 
at  Sneek,  aided  by  scrutiny  of  the  "  Reisgid,"  or 
"Traveler's  Guide,"  I  learned  that  a  "one-hoss 
shay  "  plied  between  Hoogeveen  and  Coevorden,  go- 
ing from  the  latter  place  late  in  the  afternoon  and 
returning  the  next  day.     So  to  Hoogeveen  I  hied. 

This  city  of  ten  thousand  people  is  rich  in  roses 
and  flower  gardens,  and  seems  free  from  much  con- 
tamination of  modern  notions.  I  found  many  things 
to  amuse  me  while  waiting  from  midday  to  after- 
noon. The  schools  were  out,  and  the  children  were 
happy.  I  read  the  shop  sign  of  a  photographer  whose 
name  seemed  to  be  "  van  America."  Some  of  the 
bakers  sold  bread  for  man  and  horse,  made  from  rye. 
To  feed  a  horse  on  loaves  seems  odd,  but  I  have 
often  seen  it  done.  Other  bakers,  though  I  read  the 
signs  in  July,  made  a  specialty  of  New  Year's  cake. 

What  memories  were  recalled  of  old  Schenectady, 
when,  on  the  year's  opening  morning,  the  white 
sugar  cookies,  duly  stamped  and  moulded  in  Dutch 
decorations  of  knights,  birds,  flowers,  and  senti- 
mental symbols,  were  bestowed  freely  on  the  chil- 
dren who  called  at  the  doors  !  The  good  old  custom 
imported   from  Holland,  like  that  of  New  Year's 


THE  TURF-YARD  OF  THE  KINGDOM       141 

calling,  died  from  cosmopolitanism.  The  Irish,  and 
"  the  mixed  multitude  that  came  out  of  Egypt "  and 
other  countries,  first  abused  and  then  killed  the  pretty 
benevolence.  When  greedy  young  ruffians,  armed 
with  bushel  bags,  rang  a  score  of  doorbells  for  mere 
spoil,  householders  defended  themselves  by  abolish- 
ing this  inherited  custom,  finding  other  channels  for 
their  generosity. 

In  the  country  round  Hoogeveen  I  saw  enough 
soot-colored  sheep  in  the  flocks  to  reverse  the  old 
riddle,  "  Why  do  white  sheep  eat  more  grass  than 
black  ones  ?  "  Answer,  "  Because  there  are  more  of 
them."  Here  the  darkies  were  in  the  majority.  This 
is  the  black  belt  of  the  sheep's  world. 

The  bridge-keepers  of  the  canal,  I  note,  are  mostly 
women.  There  is  an  affluence  of  frills  in  the  rear 
of  their  lace  caps,  which  are  shaped  like  the  gold 
helms,  though  few  metal  skull-covers  are  here  worn. 
There  is  little  here  of  "woman's  Ionic  form,"  of 
which  De  Quincey  writes  in  his  "  Dream  Fugue." 
There  is  a  repulsive  flatness,  where  roundness  and 
beauty  ought  to  be.  Instead  of  Irving's  exaggerated 
description  of  the  "  vrouwer,"  one  is  rather  painfully 
impressed  with  a  similarity  to  their  native  country, 
which  is  afflicted  with  flatness.  Literally,  they  seem 
to  be  Amazons. 

The  boats'  hulls,  visible  only  when  unheaped  with 
turf  bricks,  are  shaped  like  turtles.  Sometimes  it  is 
hard  to  tell  which  is  the  business  end,  for  the  prows 
have  no  suggestion  of  swiftness.  They  seem  to  be 
double-enders,  yet  they  are  admirably  adapted  for 
slow   movement   in   sluggish   canals,  being  for  the 


142  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

most  part  pushed,  poled,  or  pulled.     Many  of  them 
are  named  after  the  "vrouw,"  or  wife. 

In  the  little  Stadhuis  of  this  cross-shaped  town 
I  read,  in  the  municipal  arms,  the  history  and  situ- 
ation of  Hoogeveen.  In  the  centre  of  its  plain  shield 
lies  a  great  tower,  or  Babel-looking  structure,  made 
of  bricks  of  turf,  while  on  either  side  is  a  beehive, 
above  which  hover  the  industrious  insects  which, 
like  the  silkworms,  serve  men  so  well. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

ALONE  TO    COEVORDEN 

When  all  was  ready,  after  several  hours'  waiting 
at  Hoogeveen,  I  found  the  equipage  to  Coevorden  to 
be  one-mared.  She  being  duly  hitched  up,  I  had 
the  honor  of  a  seat  with  the  driver.  The  roads  here 
are  so  level  that  draught  animals  are  geared  without 
crupper  or  backing-strap,  there  being  no  descents  to 
endanger  or  overturn  the  vehicle. 

Beyond  Hoogeveen  and  the  masses  of  peat  bricks 
in  the  suburbs,  we  rode  westward  along  the  Drentsche 
canal.  This  is  a  modern  artificial  waterway,  which 
has  helped  vastly  to  dry  up  the  country,  while  serv- 
ing as  a  thoroughfare  of  commerce.  The  numerous 
gangs  of  laborers  busy  in  their  scows,  using  long- 
poled  shovels  set  at  right  angles  with  the  handle  to 
hoist  up  the  white,  infertile  ooze,  showed  what  con- 
stant industry  was  necessary  to  keep  this  water- 
course in  order. 

After  we  had  left  behind  the  acres  of  potatoes, 
rye,  and  oats,  with  many  fine  trees,  the  transition 
from  fertility  to  barrenness  was  rather  sudden.  The 
rye  and  buckwheat  grew  only  in  patches.  Cattle 
vanished  from  sight.  No  windmills  gestured  with 
their  arms.  Fringing  the  frequent  pools,  and  glori- 
fying patches  of  land  not  worth  the  ploughing  and 


144  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

yet  not  hopelessly  sterile,  were  beds  of  flaming  pink 
blossoms. 

We  entered  the  great  expanse  of  heath,  and  for 
hours  rode  in  a  world  that  was  so  lonely  that  one 
familiar  object,  the  sun,  actually  seemed  almost  per- 
sonal and  sociable.  There  were  indeed  the  evidences 
of  the  presence  of  human  beings  and  their  labor  in 
the  well-laid  brick  road.  Occasionally  a  house  was 
seen,  around  which,  by  dint  of  persistent  toil,  the 
ground  had  been  sweetened  and  fertilized,  so  that  a 
few  potatoes  could  be  coaxed  to  grow.  How  char- 
acteristic of  the  Dutch  that  out  on  the  heath  by 
the  canal  side,  away  from  the  scattered,  solitary 
dwellings,  there  was  a  comfortable  and  substantial 
schoolhouse,  in  which  the  sparse  youthful  popula- 
tion of  the  barren  region  could  assemble  for  light 
and  knowledge ! 

Flat  as  is  this  region,  we  were  riding  on  high 
places  of  the  Dutch  earth,  for  most  of  Drenthe  lies 
above  the  level  of  the  ocean.  These  great  prairies, 
if  I  may  call  them  such,  are  from  ten  to  twenty- 
five  metres  above  the  sea  plain.  Occasionally  on 
the  horizon  would  appear  what  seemed  to  be  the 
structures  denoting  a  village,  though  one  missed  the 
characteristic  mark  of  a  Dutch  hamlet,  the  church 
spire.  When  I  asked  of  our  driver  the  name  of 
this  or  that "  dorp,"  he  smiled  faintly ;  then  I  found 
I  was  suffering  from  mirage.  These  lofty  structures, 
seen  in  enchantment-lending  distance,  were  not  the 
homes  of  villagers,  they  were  only  great  stacks  of 
turf.  Then  I  thought  of  the  adobe  houses  and  "  sod 
shacks  "  on  our  own  prairies. 


ALONE  TO  COEVORDEN  145 

We  stopped  at  one  place  where  the  brick  road 
left  the  canal.  Here  Jehu  pulled  out  a  loaf  of  rye 
bread,  and,  cutting  it  in  slices,  fed  not  himself  but 
the  horse.  Only  one  oasis  was  found  on  the  route 
during  the  drive  of  five  hours.  This  was  in  the  neat 
village  of  Dalen.  Here,  under  magnificent  trees, 
were  comfortable  homes  showing  both  age  and  pro- 
sperity, and  abundance  of  cattle  in  the  pastures,  for 
the  village  is  broadly  belted  with  great  fields.  The 
blue  corn-flower  was  very  abundant  in  the  rye. 

That  Dalen  is  the  finest  village  in  the  province, 
that  it  is  "  the  Drentsche  Hague,"  I  am  not  inclined 
to  doubt.  It  owes  its  existence  to  the  fact  that  here 
is  clay.  Indeed,  along  the  whole  ride,  wherever 
there  was  clay,  I  noticed  there  was  fertility  in  the 
barrens,  or  "  wolds."  Where  there  was  no  clay,  but 
only  sand,  in  which  even  heather  could  scarce  live, 
no  settlement  of  man,  but  only  a  camp,  with  provi- 
sions imported  as  for  a  garrison,  could  thrive.  The 
difference  between  clay  and  sand  in  the  Netherlands 
is  the  difference  between  life  and  death. 

As  we  approached  Coevorden  I  could  see  the  star 
points  and  long  lines  of  the  old  bastions.  Some  of 
the  counterscarps  looked  as  clearly  defined  as  if 
made  last  year.  Our  vehicle  moved  over  a  bridge 
crossing  the  stream  of  water  which  drains  this  part 
of  the  country,  and  meanders  as  "  the  Vecht "  down 
through  Over-Ijssel  and  near  Zwolle  to  the  Zuyder 
Zee.  Riding  past  houses  with  their  steps  coming 
down  to  the  water,  we  reached  the  hotel,  on  the 
front  of  which  we  saw  the  usual  enameled  blue  and 
white  sign  announcing  that  they  gave  special  terms 


146  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

to  bicyclers.  But  my  wheel  was,  like  "  the  Dutch- 
man's anchor,"  of  English  anecdote,  at  home,  far 
away. 

The  arrival  of  a  stranger  in  Coevorden,  among 
its  three  thousand  people,  is  an  event.  The  city 
has  few  or  no  brick  sidewalks,  and  the  streets  are 
crooked.  No  relics  dating  from  Spanish  times  were 
visible,  though  there  are  some  from  the  days  of  the 
French  siege.  A  Catholic  church,  a  Jewish  syna- 
gogue, and  the  Groote  Kerk,  the  tower  of  which  was 
burned  some  years  ago,  are  noticeable.  The  place 
wears  an  air  of  remoteness  from  railways  and  the 
world  in  general.  After  a  walk  across  the  town, 
over  the  bridge,  and  a  little  way  into  the  country 
at  the  further  end,  musing  among  the  old  bastion 
lines,  calling  up  the  ghosts  of  the  past,  I  returned  to 
the  hotel.  Arranging  for  an  early  morning  stroll, 
I  climbed  up  the  ladder-like  stairway,  and  slept 
soundly  till  five  o'clock  A.  M. 

In  the  sweet  morning  air  and  clear  light,  I  walked 
with  my  host,  a  young  man  of  intelligence  and  en- 
ergy, almost  over  the  entire  line  of  fortifications. 
Many  of  these  are  still  works  of  art  that  call  forth 
admiration  of  the  genius  of  the  great  engineer,  Coe- 
horn,  who  laid  them  out.  They  are  indeed  worthy 
of  preservation.  The  water  is  mostly  supplied  by  a 
branch  of  the  stream  called  the  Vecht,  and  from  one 
of  the  great  canals  which  drains  Over-Ijssel,  and 
connects  the  city  with  Almelo  to  the  south.  On  one 
side  of  the  city  the  walls  are  all  leveled  and  the 
moat  has  disappeared.  Cabbage  gardens  and  grain- 
fields  now  occupy  the  space  over  which  bullets  and 


ALONE  TO  COEVORDEN  147 

cannon-balls  once  flew.  In  other  angles  are  to  be 
seen  a  farmhouse,  ploughed  land,  grain-fields,  or  a 
chicken  range.  These  all  tell  of  peace,  of  quiet- 
ness, and  of  the  prosperity  which  has  come  to  the 
commonwealth  because  of  the  victory  of  brave 
men. 

I  looked  with  greatest  interest  at  those  points 
where  Maurice,  then  scarcely  a  bearded  hero  and 
called  a  youthful  pedant,  showed  both  his  own  coun- 
trymen and  the  Spaniards  how  well  the  spade  could 
reinforce  cavalry  and  cannon.  From  these  walls, 
August  16,  1592,  Count  Van  den  Berg,  with  his 
thousand  veterans  behind  him,  sneered  at  the  sum- 
mons from  Maurice  to  surrender.  He  defied  the 
boy  general  and  jeered  at  his  digging  boers.  "  Tell 
him,"  said  he,  "  first  to  beat  down  my  walls  as  flat  as 
the  ditch,  and  then  to  bring  five  or  six  storms.  Six 
months  after  that,  I  will  think  whether  I  will  send  a 
trumpet." 

Out  on  the  flats  was  fought  one  of  those  night 
battles  in  shirts  for  which  the  Spaniards  so  often 
contrived  to  make  themselves  famous ;  that  is,  the 
Spaniards,  putting  on  their  white  shirts  outside  their 
armor,  made  a  tremendous  onset  upon  the  Dutch 
camp.  Yet  despite  this  attack  from  without,  which 
was  beaten  off,  Maurice,  who  had  something  of  the 
same  mind  as  our  own  Grant,  whom  no  General 
Early  or  Shenandoah  raid  could  disturb,  keeping 
his  eyes  fixed  on  Coevorden  as  a  prize,  maintained 
his  grip. 

Important  as  this  place  was  for  the  Republic, 
Queen  Elizabeth,  instead   of   congratulations,  sent 


148  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

reproaches  to  the  Dutch  Congress  because  they  had 
used  all  their  forces  and  her  own  auxiliaries  against 
what  she  thought  was  a  mere  earthwork  and  a  town 
of  no  importance.  Forthwith  she  ordered  off  from 
Coevorden  and  out  of  Holland  into  France  part  of 
her  forces  serving  in  Dutch  pay. 

On  the  12th  day  of  September  the  Spaniards 
marched  out,  and  the  soldiers  of  the  Republic 
marched  in.  Instead  of  the  fire,  rape,  pillage,  and 
indiscriminate  butchery  so  often  indulged  in  by  the 
Spaniards,  Maurice  and  the  young  Republic  gave 
the  world  an  exhibition  of  the  new  spirit  which  had 
dawned  in  war.  The  brave  garrison,  reduced  in 
number  one  half,  were  allowed  to  go  out  in  honor 
with  their  arms  and  personal  effects. 

It  was  from  this  point  of  time,  1592,  and  indeed 
we  may  say  from  this  place,  Coevorden,  that  those 
lines  of  difference  became  more  marked  which 
showed  with  increasing  clearness  of  contrast  the 
democratic  spirit  of  the  federal  republic  and  the 
armies  of  the  monarchy  oversea.  The  Dutch  were 
justly  indignant  that  the  English  government 
should  hold  three  of  their  towns,  like  a  pawn- 
broker clutching  his  securities,  while,  right  in  the 
face  of  dangers,  the  English  repeatedly  drew  off 
their  forces  in  the  pay  of  the  States  General  and 
sent  them  to  fight  in  France  or  Ireland.  It  was 
this  half-hearted  spirit  in  their  allies  which  showed 
the  Dutch  how  little  the  English  aristocratic  classes 
cared  for  a  republic,  which  led  them  gradually  but 
surely  to  give  up  all  idea  of  having  a  princely  fig- 
ure-head to  their  government,  and  which  made  them 


ALONE  TO   COEVORDEN  149 

satisfied  to  have  a  stadholder,  or  even  a  plain  citizen 
pensionary,  for  their  chief  executive. 

Neither  the  age  nor  the  circumstances  were  yet 
ready  for  a  democratic  republic,  but  upon  monarchy 
the  Dutch  had  turned  their  faces,  and  now  looked 
forward  toward  complete  freedom  from  Spain  and 
to  a  true  federal  republic.  Coevorden  may  be  con- 
sidered as  one  of  the  turning-points  and  places,  de- 
cisive both  for  the  future  of  the  young  Kepublic  and 
potent  in  the  making  of  the  fame  and  character  of 
Maurice,  —  the  real  founder  of  New  Netherland, 
which  afterward  became  the  Empire  State  of  the 
American  Union.  The  Dutch  republicans  stood  for 
freedom  against  oppressors  who  represented  what 
has  brought  Spain  to  her  degradation  of  to-day. 
Our  inheritance  of  freedom  is  through  Dutch  as 
well  as  English  channels. 

Time  did  not  allow  me  a  visit  to  the  New  Am- 
sterdam which  lies  a  few  miles  northeast  of  Coe- 
vorden. Less  than  forty  years  ago,  all  this  region 
in  southeastern  Drenthe  was  a  great  bog,  impassa- 
ble in  winter  and  pestilential  in  summer.  Now,  it 
is  drained,  dried,  surveyed,  and  laid  out  in  prosper- 
ous villages.  Two  enterprising  citizens  of  the  pro- 
vince set  themselves  to  the  work  of  reclaiming  this 
morass.  A  canal  was  dug  through  the  centre,  into 
which  ran  lateral  drains. 

Then  the  great  turf-pit  was  entered  by  thousands 
of  diggers,  men  and  women,  who  charged  with  shov- 
els at  the  enemy  under  their  feet  and  won  vast  spoil. 
They  piled  up  the  combustible  sods  into  lofty  heaps. 
Nearly  thirty-five  hundred  acres  of  land  were  made 


150  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

habitable  and  valuable.  The  capitalists  of  Amster- 
dam, roused  by  this  example  of  courage,  sent  money 
and  emigrants  to  complete  the  work.  Now  the  vil- 
lage of  New  Amsterdam,  but  forty-five  years  old, 
with  churches,  schools,  and  several  thousand  inhab- 
itants, occupies  what  was  once  a  stagnant  swamp. 
To  the  northeast  is  another  settlement,  called  New 
Dordrecht,  with  other  villages  and  hamlets. 

Coevorden's  history,  even  from  the  Roman  occu- 
pation, is  wholly  military.  Here  on  the  only  terra 
firma^  amid  a  vast  region  of  bog  and  swamp,  the 
Eoman  citadel  stood  guarding  the  gateway  from 
Germany.  Bizot,  the  man  who  has  written  history 
from  metallic  tokens,  describes  an  old  medal  which 
bears  the  inscription  in  Latin,  "  Covordia  Capta 
Drentha  a  Romanis  constructa  anno  Domini  X,  " 
which  would  show  that  the  city  was  in  existence 
when  Jesus  was  probably  six  years  old.  Another 
author,  Picardt,  insists  that  here  stood  the  villa 
Criiptoricis,  of  which  Tacitus  speaks. 

In  modern  writing  there  is  no  mention  of  Coe- 
vorden  until  the  ninth  century.  In  A.  D.  1024  the 
Count  of  Drenthe  lived  here.  Afterward  his  terri- 
tory was  transferred  by  the  Emperor  Henry  II.  to 
the  bishops  of  Utrecht.  Thereafter  its  story  is  one 
of  alternate  obedience  to  and  rebellion  against  its 
Episcopal  superiors  in  Utrecht.  In  1552  the  sol- 
diers of  Charles  V.  occupied  Coevorden,  but  it  was 
still  an  open  city  without  walls.  Everard  Ens,  its 
last  Spanish  governor,  strengthened  the  ramparts  of 
the  citadel  and  surrounded  the  city  with  an  earthen 
wall.      Nevertheless,   its   reputation   as  a   fortified 


ALONE  TO  COEVORDEN  161 

place  was  so  fresh  and  so  slight  that  thrifty  Queen 
Elizabeth  failed,  as  we  have  seen,  to  appreciate  the 
genius  of  the  Dutch  in  taking  it.  After  the  siege 
by  Maurice,  who  still  further  strengthened  the  old 
fortifications,  Coehorn  incased  this,  as  he  did  so 
many  other  Dutch  cities,  with  earthworks  that 
seemed  impregnable.  Nevertheless,  in  1672  the 
warrior  bishop  of  Miinster,  with  eighteen  thousand 
raw  troops  from  his  own  cathedral  city  and  from 
Cologne,  took  Coevorden  by  surprise.  Once  again, 
in  1813,  the  French  troops  occupied  the  place, 
holding  it  until  May  13,  1814. 

Remounting  the  one-horse  conveyance,  I  rode 
through  fields  of  rye,  buckwheat,  and  potatoes,  and 
over  moor  and  heath.  Drenthe,  where  it  is  not  a 
turf  field,  seems  to  be  a  potato  patch,  the  tubers 
being  raised  as  much  for  the  purpose  of  making 
starch  as  for  satisfying  human  hunger.  The  Dutch 
peasant's  way  of  making  a  whole  meal  of  "  earth 
apples  "  is  to  set  into  the  top  of  a  heap  of  peeled 
and  boiled  ones  a  bowl  of  gravy.  Then,  holding 
each  on  the  end  of  a  fork  and  dipping  it  into  the 
savory  fat,  he  eats  with  gusto. 

Taking  the  train  from  Hoogeveen  and  riding 
westward  through  the  heather-tufted  sand,  I  alighted 
at  Meppel.  It  was  market  day,  July  11,  and  the 
open  space  for  traffic  was  full  of  interested  peasants, 
the  men  with  affluence  of  buttons,  and  the  women 
with  silver  head  -  bands  which  came  down  over 
their  ears  and  terminated  in  funnel-shaped  wires 
reaching  nearly  to  the  chin.  Big  silver  buckles 
ornamented  the  shoes.     Besides  many  gold  skull- 


152  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

caps,  with  bonnets  perched  on  top  of  them,  there 
were  light-colored  hats  amazingly  decorated  with 
flowers,  on  the  women's  heads.  Not  a  few  of  the 
faces  were  pretty,  with  cheeks  that  were  not  merely 
scarified  by  the  sun  or  excess  of  health,  but  deli- 
cately rosy. 

In  the  eating-houses  a  mob  of  customers  kept  pro- 
prietors and  waiters  busy,  furnishing  beer  and  sand- 
wiches and  the  little  half -gill  glasses  of  that  national 
beverage  which  the  English  call  "  gin,"  the  Dutch 
"  genevre,"  and  the  Germans  "  schnapps."  The  nar- 
row streets  were  so  full  of  push-carts  that  pedestrian- 
ism  was  not  convenient,  the  risk  to  one's  toes  being 
too  great.  One  could  see  here,  as  at  other  "  beast 
markets,"  the  archaic  custom  of  striking  hands  to 
complete  a  bargain.  Frequently  piggy  declined  to 
change  owners  and,  when  led  away  by  a  stranger, 
would  set  up  a  squeal  almost  as  pitiful  as  it  was 
comical.  When  the  seller  puUed  out  a  pair  of  scis- 
sors and  cut  off  from  the  back  an  inch  or  two  of 
bristles,  it  meant  that  the  animal  was  marked 
«  sold." 


OVER-IJSSEL 


CHAPTER  XVII 

OVER-IJSSEL:   STEENWIJK  AND   KAMPEN 

The  province  over  the  Ijssel,  that  is,  beyond 
the  river  of  this  name,  must  have  received  its  title 
from  men  living  south  of  it.  It  stretches  from  the 
Zuyder  Zee  to  Germany.  It  touches  Gelderland  on 
the  south  and  Friesland  and  Drenthe  on  the  north. 
Though  traversed  with  railways  and  weU  drained  by 
rivers,  large  portions  of  it  consist  of  swamps  and 
heath.  Down  the  centre  runs  a  mass  of  sandhills, 
which  are  dignified  each  with  the  name  of  "  berg." 
It  is  rather  thinly  populated,  having  only  about 
three  hundred  thousand  inhabitants.  Its  annual 
budget,  as  we  once  heard  a  former  burgomaster  of 
Rotterdam  say,  with  a  sigh,  is  vastly  less  than  that 
of  Holland's  second  municipality.  Deventer,  ZwoUe, 
and  Karapen  are  its  chief  cities,  though  Steenwijk, 
Ootmarsum,  Oldenzaal,  Enschede,  and  Hengelo,  fa- 
mous historically  in  siege  and  war,  are  now  seats  of 
industry. 

Above  all  other  machinery,  the  spade  is  the  char- 
acteristic implement  of  this  province,  both  in  agri- 
culture for  the  digging  and  shaping  of  turf,  and  in 
the  making  of  canals  which  are  numerous  and  fa- 
mous for  their  length.  The  province  arms  show  a 
standing  lion  before  a  shield,  on  which  is  a  wave 


156  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

line  of  water,  the  Ijssel  River.  Long  under  the 
ecclesiastical  influence  of  the  Bishop  of  Miinster, 
the  various  town  arms  have  many  crosses  in  various 
shapes,  with  saints,  angels,  and  ecclesiastics. 

Blokziyl  shows  the  meaning  of  its  name  in  a 
block-sluice;  Dieperheim,  three  bears'  claws  on  a 
shield  beneath  the  ducal  crown ;  Rijssen,  its  heather 
sprig ;  Oldemark,  its  open  hand ;  Staphorst,  its 
flowers ;  Wierden,  its  wheat.  On  the  centre  one  of 
Wilsum's  three  towers  is  a  pelican's  nest ;  between 
Hengel's  wheat-sheaf,  scythe,  and  flail,  beehive  and 
swarm,  flows  waving  water ;  on  Olst's  arms  is  a 
hay-stack,  well  roofed ;  under  Avereests's  are  clover 
leaves.  Markelo  has  a  bishop's  mitre,  an  encircled 
grove  of  trees,  and  a  range  of  sandhills ;  Avereest 
shows  a  rye-sheaf,  with  a  clover  leaf  on  each  side, 
above  a  flowing  stream,  beneath  which  is  a  pair  of 
waffle-irons.  The  Dutch  of  this  province  have  made 
the  desert  blossom  as  the  rose. 

Up  in  the  northern  corner  of  Over-Ijssel  is  the 
town  of  Steenwijk,  or  Stony  Cove.  It  received  its 
name  long  ago,  because  in  and  around  the  place  that 
which  is  lacking  elsewhere  in  the  province  is  fairly 
abundant,  —  stone.  The  Scandinavian  glaciers  left 
abundant  debris  in  this  region,  and  from  the  boul- 
ders and  pebbles,  the  wijk  probably  resting  in  an 
old  moraine,  the  town  took  its  name. 

As  "  kirk  "  becomes  "  church,"  so  "  wijk  "  be- 
comes "  wich  "  in  English,  as  in  Norwich. 

The  town  itself  is  in  the  centre  of  the  Steenwijk- 
wold,  or  forest,  and  further  to  the  west  is  a  great 
heath  partially  drained  by  canals,  while  quite  near 


OVER-IJSSEL  :  STEENWIJK  AND  KAMPEN    157 

the  city  are  hills.  The  old  bastions  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  imposing  in  size,  still  remain,  and  here  are 
found  parks,  flowers,  and  lovely  paths  lined  with 
trees.  Looking  over  the  plain,  one  feels  an  unusual 
sense  of  altitude,  and  the  hills  of  the  rolling  country 
to  the  south  heighten  an  effect  rather  unusual  in  a 
Dutch  landscape. 

My  rambles  over,  I  sought  out  the  Onderwizer, 
or  English  teacher,  Mr.  Du  Croix,  and  chatted  with 
him  concerning  the  history  of  the  town,  as  well  as 
on  matters  of  education.  The  schools  are  graded 
A,  B,  C.  The  scholars  in  the  first  grade  pay  forty, 
and  in  the  second  thirty,  guilders  a  year,  the  third 
grade  being  free  for  the  poor.  The  town  to-day  is 
neat  and  dull.  Very  little  of  the  modern  pulse  beats 
in  Steenwijk,  and  without  picture  galleries  or  muse- 
ums it  could  not  attract  or  detain  long  the  hasty 
tourist.  On  the  town  arms  is  the  Pope,  with  a  triple 
tiara  and  a  three-crossed  staff,  holding  a  crowned 
shield  on  which  is  an  anchor. 

The  historic  imagination  loves  to  call  up  the  times 
when  English  and  Dutchmen  fought  here  in  free- 
dom's war.  Those  meadows  out  there  far  beneath 
us  seem  good  for  batteries,  trenches,  and  mining 
operations.  It  was  early  in  May,  1592,  when  the 
young  Prince  Maurice  brought  here  his  fifty  guns 
by  water  and  began  that  siege  of  Steenwijk  in  which 
the  spade  played  even  a  more  important  role  than 
the  cannon.  The  Spaniards  within,  with  a  wild- 
Indian-like  hatred  of  any  work  but  that  of  war  with 
slaughter- weapons,  detested  the  shovel.  They  jeered 
at  the  soldier  boers,  who  kept  digging  away.     The 


158  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

besiegers  built  a  strong  tower  of  heavy  timber,  and 
from  up  in  the  air,  like  sailors  who  from  the  tops 
sweep  the  enemy's  decks,  poured  their  effective  fire 
into  the  streets,  while  digging  went  on  in  the  trenches 
and  mining  beneath  the  ground.  The  23d  day  of 
June  was  fixed  as  the  date  for  making  a  crater. 
Then  the  mines  were  fired.  Towers,  walls,  ram- 
parts, ditches,  and  counterscarps  were  all  sent  flying 
towards  the  blue,  falling  backward  into  chaos.  The 
Dutch  victory  was  decisive.  The  Spaniards  marched 
out  on  the  5th  of  July.  From  that  time  forth  the 
dons  and  their  mercenaries  had  profound  respect 
both  for  the  Dutch  diggers  and  their  digging.  On 
the  medals,  struck  so  often  to  commemorate  victory 
for  the  Republic,  no  implement  of  war  has  had  more 
honored  prominence  than  the  spade.  As  I  looked 
on  this  old  site  of  Maurice's  triumph,  I  thought  of 
Grant's  Petersburg  crater,  which  I  saw  in  1866, 
mined  and  fired  by  the  Pennsylvania  miners. 

The  marks  of  the  Romans  are  not  absent  in  Over- 
Ijssel.  Not  many  miles  southward  from  the  mouth 
of  the  river  so  often  bridged  by  them,  and  pontooned 
in  later  times  for  the  movements  of  armies,  is  the 
Kampen,  or  town  of  the  camps,  while  to  the  north- 
west is  Kampen  Island.  I  wanted  to  see  the  pretty 
little  town,  because  of  its  superb  church,  charming 
town  hall,  and  theological  school,  but  not  particularly 
because  it  is  the  capital  of  the  tobacco  interest  in 
the  Netherlands.  The  American  who  is  in  Holland 
for  trade  comes  to  sell  the  weed  and  to  buy  diamonds. 
He  must  needs  visit  Kampen.  Most  of  the  cigars 
smoked  in  the  kingdom  are  made  here.     It  seems 


OVER-IJSSEL  :  STEENWIJK  AND  KAMPEN    159 

almost  proper,  while  among  the  Dutch,  to  include 
the  love  of  smoke  among  the  four  or  five  elemental 
human  passions. 

Arriving  on  the  hither  side  of  the  river  at  the 
railway  terminal,  before  crossing  the  beautiful  long 
iron  bridge  over  the  imposing  flood,  I  found  refresh- 
ment at  the  restaurant  with  beefsteak,  potatoes,  and 
one  of  those  salads  in  the  making  of  which  the 
Dutch  excel.  Crossing  over,  I  called  on  one  of  the 
professors,  presenting  a  letter  of  introduction  and 
receiving  a  warm  welcome.  The  divinity  halls  were 
not  abodes  of  luxury.  I  peeped  into  the  lecture- 
rooms  and  the  faculty's  chamber,  —  thoroughly  satu- 
rated with  the  stratified  odors  of  tobacco,  dating 
apparently  from  the  prehistoric  era,  —  and  then 
started  on  a  walk  around  the  town  with  two  young 
men.  One  was  a  son  of  a  theological  professor,  and 
the  other  was  from  the  Transvaal  Republic,  —  not 
then  invaded  by  British  filibusters.  Young  men 
from  South  Africa  come  largely  to  Kampen  for  their 
theological  education,  especially  those  who  are  to 
enter  the  ministry  of  the  Christian  Reformed  Church. 
Both  my  companions  spoke  English  admirably,  and 
enjoyed  a  joke,  —  especially  that  local  Dutch  plea- 
santry which  bids  one  "  tell  a  story "  (not  to  the 
marines,  but)  "  in  Kampen,"  to  the  people  there. 

Pretty  streets,  fine  houses,  and  great  tobacco  store- 
houses are  in  Kampen ;  so  is  the  large  church  of  St. 
Nicholas,  or  Boven  Kerk,  which,  with  that  of  the 
twin  edifice  of  St.  Mary,  had  its  foundations  laid  in 
the  fourteenth  century.  Though  one  of  the  largest 
and  finest  of  the  mediaeval  Netherlandish  edifices, 


160  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLIrAND 

its  rich  ornamentation  and  splendid  furnishings 
have  given  way  to  bare  stone  and  whitewash.  The 
change  within,  after  the  Puritans  got  hold  of  the 
mediaeval  meeting-house,  was  like  that  from  the 
splendid  pageant  of  Roderick  Dhu's  brilliantly 
plaided  warriors,  "along  Benledi's  living  side,"  to 
''Bracken  green  and  cold  gray  stone." 

Although  making  their  churches  look  like  barns, 
the  Dutch  have  always  preserved  in  their  civic  archi- 
tecture not  only  beauty,  but  much  of  fancy  and 
human  interest.  The  town  hall  in  Kampen  is  of 
unusual  architecture.  Built  in  the  sixteenth  century, 
it  was  enlarged  in  the  eighteenth,  and  restored  in 
the  nineteenth.  The  imposing  facade  is  beautified 
with  statues.  The  paneling  on  the  walls  is  of  un- 
usual beauty.  The  chief  place  of  honor  and  art  in 
the  Dutch  house  being  the  fireplace,  one  must  not 
fail  to  notice  the  lofty  chimney-piece,  built  in  1543, 
with  statues  in  the  niches.  On  the  walls  stadholders 
look  out  of  their  frames  from  the  darkened  canvases. 
So  stern  seemed  some  of  these  doughty  worthies 
that  it  is  no  wonder  that  Jan  Steen  relieved  the  sit- 
uation by  painting  roysterers.  Puritanism  always 
needs  an  antidote  in  the  form  of  healthy  fun. 

Kampen  does  not  lack  links  in  the  world's  chain 
of  fame.  Here,  and  not  at  the  German  Kampen,  it 
is  believed,  the  great  Thomas  a  Kempis  was  born. 
Kampen  was  of  old  a  Hanseatic  city,  and  once  had 
a  national  mint.  Now,  great  chimney  factories  tell 
of  the  modern  age  of  industry,  and  add  their  volume 
to  augment  that  from  the  human  furnaces  which 
daily  make  themselves  the  middle  term  between 
leaves  and  ashes. 


OVER-IJSSEL  :  STEENWIJK  AND  KAMPEN    161 

Though  besieged  in  1578,  Kampen  escaped  any 
serious  injury  during  the  Eighty  Years'  War.  In 
1672  it  suffered  severely,  when  Louis  XIV.  and  the 
Bishop  of  Miinster  struck  hands  to  stamp  out  the 
Protestant  Republic.  In  1813  the  corps  of  Von 
Billow,  of  the  allied  armies  against  Napoleon,  paid 
Kampen  a  visit.  Fortified  by  nature  with  a  wide 
river  in  front,  and  by  art  with  a  broad  ditch  having 
five  bastions,  and  a  great  fort  guarding  the  imposing 
wooden  bridge  thrown  across  the  Ijssel,  the  city  kept 
up  its  defensive  armor  until  the  present  century. 
Then,  like  Aaron's  wonder-working  rod  which  blos- 
somed, the  works  of  war  were  thrown  down  and 
became  lovely  parks  and  flowery  paths. 

Other  places  in  Netherland,  which,  whether  spelled 
with  initial  K  or  C,  carry  in  their  tell-tale  names 
those  of  Roman  or  other  camps,  may  be  counted  by 
scores.  Kamperduin,  in  North  Holland,  near  the 
dunes  along  the  seashore,  where  the  British  Ad- 
miral Duncan  won  his  famous  victory,  is  best  known 
to  Englishmen.  The  British  navy  preserves  a  per- 
manent memorial  of  the  triumph  in  the  ship  named 
Camperdown.  The  other  term,  "  Castra,"  so  fre- 
quent in  England  in  the  modern  form  of  Chester,  is 
not  so  much  known  on  Dutch  territory,  though  eight 
or  ten  places  contain  the  syllables,  which,  in  Castri- 
cum  and  several  places  named  Casteren,  are  easily 
recognized.  The  greatest  of  Roman  fortifications 
north  of  the  Scheldt  was  probably  the  Huis  te  Brit- 
ten, or  fortress  looking  toward  Britain.  Once  a 
massive  stronghold,  and  eastward  and  inside  the 
dunes,  near  Leyden,  it  is  now  west  and  far  beyond 


162  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

them  down  under  the  seaway,  and  visible  below 
water  only  at  very  low  tide. 

To  the  American  there  are  other  points  of  historic 
touch  at  Kampen,  for  here,  in  1693,  some  of  the 
founders  of  New  England  sought  refuge  and  re- 
ceived aid  and  comfort.  Harried  out  of  their  home 
land  after  Barrowe,  Greenwood,  and  Penry  had  been 
put  to  death  by  the  political  churchmen,  who  under 
forms  of  law  masked  their  hatred  of  democracy 
in  religion,  a  few  of  the  Separatists  fled  to  the  Dutch 
land  of  freedom.  In  those  days,  before  a  canal 
had  cut  through  North  Holland,  either  lengthwise 
northwardly,  or  laterally  from  Amsterdam  westward 
to  the  sea,  all  ships  from  the  west  had  to  go  up 
north  around  the  strait  between  the  Texel  and  the 
Helder,  and  down  through  the  Zuyder  Zee.  Like 
weary  birds  of  passage,  these  exiles  for  conscience' 
sake  found  shelter  at  Kampen  on  their  way  to  the 
crescent  city  on  the  Y.  It  is  possible,  however,  that 
having  reached  Amsterdam  first,  they  retreated  to 
Kampen  as  well  as  to  Naarden  for  temporary  refuge. 
This  was  before  their  Leyden  and  Mayflower  expe- 
riences. 

To-day,  after  so  long  a  time,  Kampen  still  fur- 
nishes spiritual  leaders  and  advisers  to  the  colonists 
from  Netherlands,  —  the  modern  Pilgrim  Fathers, 
who,  since  1844,  have  left  their  Vaderland  to  help 
settle  Iowa,  Michigan,  Dakota,  and  our  great  North- 
west. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

ZWOLLE  AND  THOMAS  1  KEMPIS 

From  the  reputed  birthplace  of  Thomas  a  Kempis 
to  ZwoUe,  the  city  in  which  he  spent  most  of  his 
long  life,  and  wrote  his  immortal  book,  the  distance 
is  but  a  few  miles.  Twice  I  saw  the  fascinating 
place.  How  it  received  its  name  no  two  archaeolo- 
gists are  agreed,  though  many  think  that  the  idea  is 
represented  in  our  word  "  swell,"  ZwoUe  lying  near 
the  lapsing  waves  of  the  Zwarte,  or  black  water.  A 
learned  archivist  told  me  the  name  might  come  from 
the  Salix  family  of  trees,  which  comprises  the  wil- 
lows, osiers,  and  other  swamp  growths,  or  from  the 
"  Salische  "  Franks,  with  whom  we  associate  the 
Salic  law ;  though  not  impossibly  from  the  "  swell." 

Even  to-day,  so  saturated  with  moisture  is  the 
ground  that  the  cemetery  must  be,  as  in  most  Dutch 
towns,  above  the  level  of  the  surrounding  country, 
reminding  an  American  of  New  Orleans,  where  the 
same  necessity  arises.  Hence  one  sees  the  grave- 
yards lifted  high  in  air  —  a  sort  of  hanging  gardens 
for  the  dead  —  upon  old  bastions,  and  on  the  slopes 
of  what  were  "  terpen,"  or  ancient  tumuli,  and 
now  either  artificially  or  naturally  made  dry  for  the 
safety  of  the  living. 

In  ZwoUe  the  fashionable  cemetery  of  the  wealthy, 


164  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

where  the  dead  can  have  a  comparatively  water- 
proof resting-place,  is  the  Agneteberg.  This  his- 
toric mound,  once  covered  with  monasteries,  is  now 
dotted  over  with  little  white  stones,  each  "  the  inn 
of  a  traveler  on  his  way  to  Jerusalem."  On  this 
trifling  swell  of  land,  which  to  an  American  has 
almost  a  comic  flavor  as  of  LiUiput,  in  being  called 
a  "  berg,"  or  hill,  stood  the  brick  cloisters,  full  of 
cell-brothers,  among  whom  Thomas  a  Kempis  lived 
until  his  ninety-first  year. 

On  my  first  visit  to  Zwolle,  after  a  ramble  in  the 
marketplace,  I  accosted  a  clerical-looking  individual, 
robed  in  black  from  his  low-crowned  hat  to  his 
buckled  shoes,  whom  I  knew  at  once  to  be  a  "  Pas- 
toor,"  or  Catholic  priest.  In  the  Netherlands  nearly 
all  clergymen  dress  in  the  hue  of  the  crow,  but  by 
their  uniform  one  may  know  their  sect,  this  one  of 
the  Reformed  being  a  "  Domine,"  the  other  of  the 
Catholic  being  a  "  Pastoor." 

The  Protestant  may  or  may  not  be  recognized 
by  his  dress,  the  Pastoor  may  and  must  be,  though 
he  advertises  his  church  by  his  clothes  less  than 
in  southern  Europe.  Besides  his  comfortable  low- 
crowned  hat,  the  Pastoor' s  black  uniform  is  relieved 
at  the  neck  by  white  linen,  and  there  is  a  peculiar 
clerical  notch  in  his  coat  and  waistcoat.  His  breeches 
are  bound  at  the  knee,  and  he  wears  black  stockings 
and  low-cut  shoes.  He  is  pretty  sure  to  have  an 
umbrella  in  his  hands,  and  almost  certainly  has  a 
cigar.  In  capacity  to  produce  smoke  and  convert 
cigars  into  ashes,  Protestant  and  Catholic  are  equal. 
On  points  of  theology  and  church  government,  or  as 


ZWOLLE  AND  THOMAS  A  KEMPIS  165 

to  validity  of  "  orders,"  they  may  differ,  but  on  the 
contention  that  tobacco  is  not  a  luxury  but  a  neces- 
sity, the  Reformed  and  the  irreformable  will  face 
the  world  in  unity. 

My  chance  acquaintance,  the  Pastoor,  was  very 
good  natured,  as  I  fired  my  imperfect  Dutch  at  him, 
making  inquiry  as  to  the  whereabouts  of  the  grave 
of  the  great  saint,  which  I  wished  to  visit.  Suppos- 
ing that  the  tomb  of  A  Kempis  was  known,  preserved, 
and  not  only  marked,  but  as  much  visited,  perhaps, 
as  Shakespeare's  slab,  or  Burns's  temple  at  Ayr,  I 
was  hardly  prepared  for  the  sly  humor  that  twinkled 
in  his  eye,  and  for  the  hilarious  laugh  with  which  he 
prefaced  his  explanation  —  in  good  English  —  that 
nothing  remained  of  the  former  burial  appurte- 
nances of  the  mighty  Thomas,  excepting  perhaps  an 
uncertain  fragment  of  his  tombstone.  Thereupon, 
thanking  my  clerical  friend,  I  paid  the  usual  honors 
of  a  sight-seer  to  ZwoUe,  but  put  off  my  visit  to 
Agneteberg,  where  the  dust  of  A  Kempis  may  repose, 
until  a  happier  time. 

Three  years  later  I  was  the  guest  of  the  royal 
Commissaris,  or  governor  of  the  province,  —  a  pilgrim 
tarrying  for  a  night  under  the  same  roof  which  was 
a  fortnight  later  to  shelter  the  two  queens,  Emma 
and  Wilhelmina,  during  their  visit  to  Over-Ijssel. 
After  a  ride  in  city  and  suburbs  and  through  Agne- 
teberg, dinner  followed,  and  then  we  enjoyed  vocal 
music  at  the  Bethlehem  Church,  in  which  the  fashion 
and  culture  of  ZwoUe  were  gathered  to  hear  a  con- 
cert given  by  twelve  or  fifteen  singers  from  the  Dom 
Kirche  at  Berlin.     The  singing  was  superb. 


166  THE  AMERICAN   IN  HOLLAND 

After  the  concert  and  another  ramble  under  the 
starlight,  the  Commissaris,  having  informed  me  that 
he  had  especially  requested  the  archivist  to  show  me 
everything  I  desired  to  see  in  the  archives  of  the 
province,  bade  me  good-night  at  my  hotel  door.  I 
lay  down  in  happy  anticipation  of  a  day  among  the 
old  parchments  and  records. 

Next  morning  all  was  bright  and  glistening,  as  if 
with  lacquer-varnish.  It  was  semi-sunshiny,  with 
occasional  dashes  of  fine  moisture  that  could  hardly 
be  called  rain.  In  front  of  the  hotel,  in  the  great 
square,  the  market  traffic  was  going  on  at  its  liveliest 
rate.  Many  a  one-horsed,  hooked,  and  chariot-like 
high  Dutch  wagon  stood  there  "  unstained  with  hos- 
tile blood."  Some  had  their  shafts  set  to  the  left  or 
right,  like  single-horse  sleighs,  so  that  the  animal 
could  be  comfortable  when  jogging  in  ruts.  The 
peasant  costumes  were  varied  and  the  faces  rosy. 
Down  by  the  river  I  stopped  at  the  fish  market  to 
see  the  water  and  the  sea-food,  which  was  sold  by 
auction  in  lots  to  suit  purchasers.  People  come  with 
nets  or  trays  to  secure  their  Friday  dinners. 

In  the  "  beast  market "  were  magnificent  bulls, 
lowing  cattle,  and  men  and  women  whose  talk  was 
of  bargains.  They  carried  enough  timber  on  their 
feet  to  suggest  the  ease  with  which  a  good  fire  could 
be  kindled,  should  they  be  caught  out  in  the  cold. 
Elisha  could  have  saved  his  ox-yokes  and  made  a 
farewell  feast  out  of  his  shoes,  had  he  been  a  Dutch- 
man. The  cast-off  klomps  of  Holland  must,  in  the 
course  of  a  year,  form  a  considerable  addition  to  the 
stock  of  fuel.    Traversing  the  fine  canals  and  streets, 


ZWOLLE  AND  THOMAS   A  KEMPIS  167 

one  sees  that  very  much  of  ZwoUe  is  new,  fresh,  and 
modern,  and  this  effect  was  heightened  by  the  dashes 
of  alternate  rain  and  sunshine.  Like  Scotland,  peb- 
bles, and  Indian  arrowheads  on  ploughed  ground, 
this  country  shows  all  the  better  for  being  wet.  The 
newer  "  wijks  "  and  "  pleins  "  of  the  city  were  named 
after  members  of  the  House  of  Orange,  especially 
Willem  III.,  Emma,  and  Wilhelmina.  I  spent  a 
profitable  morning  in  the  House  of  Archives,  exam- 
ining with  the  archivarins  the  landmarks  of  Over- 
Ijssel's  history. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE   GLORIES   OF   DEVENTER 

Next  after  Zwolle,  the  best-known  city  in  Over- 
Ijssel  is  Deventer,  famed  in  the  annals  of  education, 
and  having  for  me  a  special  sentimental  interest. 
Among  the  student  friends  in  college  days,  a  member 
of  the  same  fraternity  of  Delta  Upsilon,  in  the  Uni- 
versity of  the  City  of  New  York,  was  my  friend 
Van  Deventer.  Sunny,  jolly,  and  generous,  I  knew 
him  for  years.  Coming  to  the  city  from  which  his 
ancestors  took  their  name  and  origin,  his  face  was  in 
my  mind.  We,  that  is,  Lyra  and  I,  coming  north 
from  Arnhem  and  Zutphen,  July  1,  1891,  reached 
the  city  of  Zerbolt  and  Groote  when  the  western 
sun  was  gilding  with  its  rays  the  great  square  tower 
of  the  church  of  St.  Lebuinus. 

Within  the  hotel  called  De  Engel,  in  front  of 
which  was  a  golden  angel,  v/e  were  given  what  was 
evidently  the  chief  family  room.  Upon  the  table 
were  fine  books,  —  not  directories,  photograph-adver- 
tisers, or  bound  comic  newspapers,  as  in  American 
hotels,  but  a  collection  representing  a  considerable 
range  of  Dutch  literature.  On  the  mantelpiece  and 
on  the  top  of  the  dressing-case  were  domestic  orna- 
ments and  souvenirs.  At  one  side  a  glass  case  con- 
tained numerous  curiosities,  with  things  of  fancy  and 


THE  GLORIES  OF  DEVENTER  169 

beauty.  Our  host's  daughter,  a  bright  and  pretty- 
girl,  neat  as  a  new  pin,  knew  enough  English  to 
make  our  wants  immediately  known  and  satisfied, 
so  that  the  prospect  of  comfort  during  parts  of  two 
days  was  highly  encouraging. 

In  its  situation  our  hostelry  reminded  me  of  that 
angel  in  the  Apocalypse  who  stood  with  one  foot 
upon  the  land  and  one  upon  the  sea,  and,  lifting  up 
his  trumpet  to  his  lips,  swore  by  Him  that  liveth  for 
ever  and  ever  that  "Time  should  be  no  longer," 
that  is,  that  there  should  be  no  delay.  For  in 
front  of  us  was  land,  solid  and  unshakable,  with  the 
mighty  minster  church  standing  thereon,  whose  tower 
had  witnessed  the  sunsets  of  six  hundred  years, 
and  whose  architecture  seemed  as  immovable  as  the 
Eternal  Throne ;  while  beyond  us  was  the  symbol 
of  all  that  was  changeable  and  uncertain,  the  great 
flowing  river,  swollen  by  the  rain  and  surging  past 
the  great  long  bridge  of  boats  that  danced  like  bub- 
bles on  its  surface,  or  as  but  beads  of  perspiration 
upon  its  agitated  body. 

Though  most  ready  and  willing  to  construe  the 
Greek  of  the  angel's  oath  into  a  proverb  of  "  no  de- 
lay," even  chafing  because  of  the  shortness  of  time 
to  see  the  historic  city,  I  yet  had  to  wait  an  hour 
or  more  during  the  blare  of  the  thunder  trumpets, 
while  the  heavy  artillery  of  Heaven  played  from  the 
batteries  of  the  skies,  and  the  great  lightning  flashed 
like  tongues  of  flame  from  celestial  cannon.  The 
storm  raged  with  such  fiercely  cleansing  power  that 
I  could  forgive  Milton  for  arming  his  pre-mundane 
angel  host  with  culverins  and  sulphurous  gunpowder, 


170  THE   AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

even  while  wondering  whether  he  were  a  plagiarist 
and  had  borrowed  his  plot  and  imagery  from  the 
Dutchman  Yondel,  whose  Lucifer  is  so  much  like 
the  Satan  of  the  later  written  "  Paradise  Lost."  By 
the  time  I  reached  the  conclusion  that  perhaps  both 
Hollander  and  Anglican  had  transfused  from  the 
more  ancient  Latin  Christian  poet,  the  storm  had 
cleared.  The  sun  again  came  out,  gilding  but  a  few 
inches  of  the  top  of  the  great  minster  spire  before 
setting  behind  the  sandhills  of  Over-Ijssel,  enabling 
me  to  read  the  letters  of  gold. 

Then  came  that  splendid  noon  of  twilight,  when 
(borrowing  the  Hebrew  expression)  the  "double 
glory"  of  commingled  night  and  day  flooded  the 
earth;  when,  as  it  were,  into  the  strata  of  luminosity, 
there  seemed  to  fall  out  of  the  great  upper  reservoir 
of  the  air  a  fresh  flood  from  the  light  that  was  still 
transmitted  there. 

In  this  hour  of  mystic  glow  suddenly  came  out 
on  the  square  fronting  the  great  church  a  dozen 
little  girls,  who,  taking  hold  of  each  other's  dresses, 
went  round  in  a  circle,  singing  a  pretty  air  that  set 
Lyra's  heart  dancing  over  the  tight-rope  of  memory 
stretched  from  the  mother's  heart  across  seas  and 
oceans  to  Philadelphia.  Backward  and  forward, 
between  the  little  playing  Dutch  girls  in  the  square 
by  the  Ijssel  and  the  little  boy  and  girl  then  in  the 
city  by  the  Delaware,  the  mother's  thoughts  moved. 
The  little  maids  kept  up  the  play  for  a  half  hour. 
Then  they  disappeared  in  the  gloaming  of  the  long 
bright  night,  which  in  summer  is  the  charm  of  high 
altitudes. 


DEVENTER  SQUARE  AND   CHURCH   OF   ST.    LEBUINUS 


THE  GLORIES  OF  DEVENTER  171 

I  crossed  the  great  river  over  the  bridge  of  boats, 
which  reminded  me  of  more  than  one  similar  struc- 
ture moored  between  banks  of  Holland-like  rivers  in 
Japan.  Over  the  bricks  and  under  the  trees  —  in 
Dutch-land  the  brick  and  the  tree  are  almost  as 
philosophically  and  practically  in  association  of  ideas 
as  are  spoon  and  teacup  —  I  continued  my  walk  out 
to  the  home  of  the  archivist  of  Deventer.  I  returned 
in  the  starlight,  and  then  again  moved  around  in 
the  historic  city,  while  the  ghosts  of  the  past  seemed 
to  flit  by.  Foremost  among  the  scenes  conjured  up 
were  those  of  the  time  that  tried  longest  and  hardest 
Dutchmen's  souls,  when,  amid  mighty  enemies  and 
ruthless  traitors,  they  persevered  in  freedom's  cause. 

Situated  on  the  very  line  of  demarcation  between 
two  provinces,  and  facing  a  wide,  rushing  river, 
Deventer  from  the  morning  of  its  early  life  has  had 
stirring  experiences.  This  first  day  of  my  seeing  it 
was  typical  of  its  historic  page,  which  tells  of  alter- 
nate storm  and  calm.  Yet  to  pass  over  its  many 
previous  sieges,  the  American  naturally  thinks  most 
of  those  which  in  the  time  of  the  war  for  freedom 
wrought  results  that  have  been  transfused  into  his 
own  national  life,  even  as  the  red  stream  from  the 
healthy  body  revives  the  weak  one  under  the  sur- 
geon's care. 

The  register-book  of  ground-plans  and  the  folios 
of  the  seventeenth  century  show  old  Deventer  to 
have  been  a  finely  laid-out  city.  Besides  the  superb 
open  square  called  the  Brink,  there  were  the  usual 
massive  gateways  and  imposing  churches;  the  tre- 
mendous bastions  and  wide  moats,  over  which  the 


172  THE  AMERICAN   IN  HOLLAND 

long  iron  cannon  showed  their  black  mouths,  and 
the  bridge  of  boats,  even  then  replacing  the  great 
wooden  structure  which  fire  had  repeatedly  made  its 
prey.  Especially  well  defended  by  the  turbulent 
river  flowing  out  of  the  heart  of  Germany  and  from 
the  Alps,  with  unusual  amplitude  of  ground  for  the 
movement  of  military  forces  in  the  spaces  beyond 
the  city  proper,  with  handsome  walls,  high,  strong, 
and  adorned  with  many  a  gallant  tower  and  gate- 
way, —  such  was  Deventer. 

It  is  no  wonder  that  in  1586,  when  the  United 
States  of  the  Netherlands  were  seven  years  old  from 
the  union  and  the  display  of  their  orange,  white, 
and  blue  flag  of  1579,  and  but  five  years  old  from 
their  July  Declaration  of  Independence  in  1581,  the 
States  General  considered  Deventer  as  their  West 
Point.  With  confidence  as  generous  as  was  that  of 
Washington  in  Arnold,  even  while  the  Spaniards 
were  menacing  the  borders  of  the  Ijssel,  the  Dutch 
allowed  the  Englishman  Leicester  to  garrison  De- 
venter with  twelve  hundred  troops  of  the  British 
contingent,  under  command  of  one  Stanley.  The 
rank  and  file  were  not  Englishmen,  either  regulars 
or  volunteers.  They  were,  in  the  language  of  a  his- 
torian, "wild  Irish," — half -naked  men,  of  tremen- 
dous physical  vigor.  It  is  difficult  to-day  to  realize 
how  backward  in  civilization  interior  Ireland  then 
was. 

The  Dutch  had  long  been  in  the  forefront  of 
European  culture  and  comfort,  and  the  entrance  of 
these  warriors,  who  were  supposed  to  be  their  friends, 
was  a  startling  surprise  to  the  people  of  a  city  which 


THE  GLORIES  OF  DEVENTER  173 

iiad  been  for  centuries  one  of  the  great  beacon  lights 
of  culture  to  Europe.  The  Brethren  of  the  Common 
Life  had  had  here  their  schools,  their  authors'  guilds, 
and  their  scriptoriums,  which  were  the  wonder  of  the 
age,  while  art  and  luxury  had  long  been  known  in 
the  place  where  St.  Libuinus  had,  as  early  as  the 
eighth  century,  brought  the  natives  of  these  heaths 
and  fens  under  the  sweet  influences  of  Christianity. 
Into  such  a  place  the  English  traitor  Edward 
Stanley,  a  soldier  of  fortune,  a  man  without  the 
least  sympathy  with  the  cause  in  which  the  Dutch 
were  fighting,  a  mercenary  who  fought  only  for  pay 
and  was  ready  to  serve  either  the  good  Lord  or  the 
good  Devil,  was  put  in  command.  At  the  siege  of 
Zutphen  he  had  made  himself  famous  by  an  act 
of  courage  which  won  the  admiration  of  the  Earl  of 
Leicester.  When  scaling  the  rampart,  a  pikeman 
made  a  lunge  at  him  to  kill  him.  Stanley  seized 
the  pole  with  both  hands,  and  was  drawn  over  the 
walls  among  the  enemies ;  but  when  inside,  he  drew 
his  sword  and  laid  about  him  with  such  force  that 
he  saved  his  own  life,  and  kept  the  Spaniards  at 
bay  until  reinforced  by  his  comrades.  Immediately 
knighted  and  pensioned,  and  afterwards  growing  in 
favor  with  Leicester,  he  obtained  the  command  of 
this  frontier  city.  Here,  unfortunately  for  the  cause 
of  the  patriots,  he  came  into  secret  friendly  relations 
with  the  Spanish  Colonel  Taxis,  and  the  Duke  of 
Parma,  whose  golden  arguments  his  weak  principles 
were  unable  to  combat.  On  January  29,  1587,  he 
demanded  of  the  burgomaster  that  the  gates  should 
be  opened  for  a  sortie.      The    city   officer,   either 


174  THE  AMERICAN   IN  HOLLAND 

because  he  did  not  suspect  treachery,  or  because 
he  thought  the  Spaniards  were  preferable  to  wild 
Irishmen,  yielded.  Stanley  reentered  the  gates  with 
Colonel  Taxis  and  six  companies  of  Spanish  in- 
fantry, who  immediately  took  possession  of  the  city. 
Like  the  traitorous  American  Arnold,  Stanley  took 
refuge  in  the  land  of  his  tempters,  and  died,  as  all 
Judases  die,  in  misery  and  obscurity. 

For  four  years  the  Spaniards  held  the  city,  until 
Maurice  and  his  English  allies  invested  it.  After  a 
siege  marked  by  numerous  romantic  incidents,  the 
Dutch  United  States  once  more  repossessed  it.  The 
fortifications  were  reconstructed,  the  wounds  of  war 
were  healed,  and  the  city  went  on  with  flourishing 
prosperity  until,  in  1672,  under  the  frowning  cannon 
of  the  Bishop  of  Miinster,  it  again  fell,  and  was  held 
for  a  time  by  the  aliens. 

Out  from  the  night  shadows  I  entered  the  Angel 
Hotel  once  more.  I  could  look  out  again,  as  the 
star-gleams  fell  upon  the  golden  legend  set  upon  the 
lofty  tower  of  the  minster  of  St.  Lebuinus,  two  sides 
of  which  were  visible.  I  could  read  words  which 
suggested  the  Master's  command,  "  Watch  and  pray," 
and  "Have  faith  in  God,"  —  the  whole  four-sided 
inscription  being,  "  Vigilia  j  Fide  Deo  ;  Concilia  ; 
Fortis  Acte."  Then  on  the  capacious  Dutch  pillow, 
as  big  as  Jacob's  stone,  but  possibly  not  quite  so 
hard,  we  lay  down  to  sleep.  We  woke  in  the  morn- 
ing to  see  the  whole  city  and  sky,  river  and  land- 
scape beyond,  in  the  freshness  of  new  life,  after  the 
rainstorm  of  the  day  before. 

Then  began  a  forenoon  of  acquaintance  with  the 


THE  GLORIES   OF  DEVENTER  175 

glories  of  Deventer,  —  its  quaint  houses,  its  splendid 
Brink,  its  wide  and  clean  streets,  its  imposing 
churches,  its  curious  Renaissance  house  named  Pen- 
ninck's  Hoek,  all  covered  with  quaint  statues  and 
alto-relievos,  the  curious  Lands  Huis,  now  the  bureau 
of  police,  and  the  other  edifices  of  which  the  Deventer 
people  are  justly  proud.  In  the  colossal  church  of 
St.  Lebuinus  we  enjoyed  its  vast  spaces.  Out  of 
the  heart  of  the  Middle  Ages  rose  this  stately  edifice. 
It  was  built  in  the  days  when  religion  was  a  show,  a 
spectacle,  with  its  centre  in  the  Mass,  dramatized  to 
be  sung  and  acted  in  costume,  with  all  accessories 
as  of  the  stage,  in  colors,  odors,  lights,  movement, 
and  shining  insignia,  to  impress  the  senses.  Here 
was  room  for  the  movement  of  battalions  and  regi- 
ments of  worshipers,  as  of  an  army  with  banners, 
with  emblematic  weapons  of  the  faith,  amid  clouds 
of  incense  and  splendor  of  decoration  and  embroi- 
dery; in  short,  a  service  for  the  eye  rather  than 
for  the  reason,  and  which,  to  describe  properly,  one 
must  use  the  poetic  and  dramatic  language  of  the 
Song  of  Songs  and  of  the  Apocalypse,  rather  than 
the  prose  of  historic  narration. 

Within  the  city  hall  I  enjoyed  seeing  the  wooden 
tablets  of  the  old-time  guilds,  which  so  long  ran 
their  career  of  mingled  labor  and  recreation  in  this 
rich  and  busy  manufacturing  city.  The  gem  of 
municipal  heirlooms  is  the  splendid  picture  by  the 
artist  Terburg,  who  during  his  later  years  was  burgo- 
master of  the  municipality  (while  William  Penn  was 
in  this  region  gathering  his  Friends  as  colonists),  and 
who  died  here  in  1681,  the  year  Philadelphia  was 


176  THE   AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

founded.  His  picture  superbly  represents  the  grav- 
ity and  dignity  of  city  magistracy  in  session. 

Deventer,  though  perhaps  not,  at  least  since  the 
pre-Reformation  days,  illustrious  in  the  musical  an- 
nals of  the  Netherlands,  was  to  me  the  most  musical 
of  all  Dutch  cities.  The  singing  of  the  little  chil- 
dren in  the  square,  the  sweetly  solemn  chimes  of  the 
night,  the  whistling  of  the  contented  people  moving 
in  their  sabots  across  the  great  square,  so  clean  and 
fresh  in  early  morning,  and  the  periodical  carillon 
from  the  towers,  together  with  the  splendor  and 
beauty  of  the  bright  day,  which  seemed  to  have  been 
born  out  of  the  storm,  made  unceasing  "  music  in 
the  air."  From  morn  to  sunset  hour,  and  from  even- 
ing glow  to  morning  rose,  these  two  Deventer  days 
are  remembered  as  "  songs  without  words."  Cross- 
ing the  river  once  more,  to  see  the  beautiful  city 
from  the  opposite  shore,  a  picture  of  adventurous 
cows  moving  out  into  the  swollen  stream,  yet  finding 
foothold  in  the  shallower  edge  and  standing  con- 
tentedly in  the  cool  flood,  stands  to-day  in  memory. 

Reluctant  to  leave  the  City  of  the  Brethren  of  the 
Common  Lot,  I  lingered  to  the  last  moment,  enjoying 
every  breath  of  air  in  the  spot  where  Gerhard  Groote 
in  the  fourteenth  century  lifted  that  beacon  light  of 
education  which  was  the  harbinger  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, as  surely  as  the  morning  star  is  the  herald  of 
the  dawn.  Here  the  Fraternity  of  the  Common  Life 
began  its  school.  Here  the  Brethren  made  their  text- 
books and  kindled  that  torch  of  learning  which  makes 
Deventer,  to  the  student  of  pedagogics,  what  the 
City  of  the  Violet  Crown  is  to  the  lover  of  Greek 


THE  GLORIES  OF  DEVENTER  177 

letters.  Well  may  the  would-be  graduate,  like  one 
whom  I  know,  take  as  his  thesis  for  the  doctorate 
"  The  School  at  Deventer."  That  movement  of  learn- 
ing, which  began  in  the  consecrated  mind  and  heart 
of  Groote,  not  only  enriched  Deventer,  but  by  poten- 
tial induction  caused  the  Dutch  towns  and  cities  to 
start  public  schools  sustained  by  taxation  of  the 
people,  drawing  education  not  only  out  of  the  mon- 
astery and  from  private  ownership  into  wider  chan- 
nels, but  furnishing  it  free  for  the  children  of  the 
poor.  Indeed,  one  may  look  here  for  the  matrix  of 
that  great  system  which,  in  the  United  States  of 
America,  and  thence  by  direct  influence  upon  other 
countries,  has  given  the  modern  world  a  plan  of 
public  instruction  in  which  all  classes  share.  No 
historian  of  American  or  New  England  education, 
however  he  may  write  of  the  leaf,  the  blossom,  the 
fruit,  can  ignore  the  roots  which  go  back  to  Deventer. 
Delprat  has  with  fine  critical  ability  told  the  grand 
story  of  the  Brethren  in  an  eloquent  volume. 

Yet  Deventer  is  noted  for  cookery  as  well  as  for 
bookery.  Besides  keeping  in  view  its  illustrious 
history,  its  thriving  iron  foundries,  its  manufactories, 
which  take  their  lessons  from  God's  flower-spangled 
meadows,  and  turn  out  carpets  excelling  in  color 
and  permanence  earth's  natural  coverings,  let  us  not 
forget  that  which  gives  Deventer  modern  local  fame 
and  renown  among  all  the  children  of  the  Dutch 
world,  whether  in  Africa,  Asia,  America,  or  Europe. 
To  allude,  meanwhile,  to  two  gypsy  camps,  with 
families  living  in  wagons,  which  we  saw  by  the  Ijssel 
river-side,  is  only  to  call  up  the  conti^ast  between  their 


178  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

poverty  and  black  bread,  and  the  heaps  of  white- 
frosted  and  gilded  Deventer  "  koekjes."  Tons  upon 
tons  of  sweet  cake,  in  which  are  joined  the  products 
of  bees  and  of  hens  and  of  grains,  —  honey,  eggs, 
and  wheat  flour,  —  are  made  annually  and  sent  all 
over  the  kingdom.  The  smaller  cakes  are  of  course 
called  "  koekjes,"  which  we  call  "  cookies."  This  lit- 
tle diminutive  tail  or  annex,  Dutch  "je,"  English 
"  ey,"  Scottish  "ie,"  is  the  means  by  which  thousands 
of  Dutch  nouns  and  names  become  darlings  in  speech. 
The  "  koekje  "  has  survived  as  "  cooky  "  even  when 
transplanted  in  America.  Now  if  we  can  say  "cooky," 
why  not  also  "  booky,"  even  as  do  still  the  Dutch 
and  Scotch? 


GELDERLAND 


CHAPTER  XX 
GLORIOUS  ARNHEM 

Our  first  sight  of  fair  Gelderland  was  enjoyed  in 
company  with  Lyra.  We  had  left  the  illuminated 
city  of  Utrecht  with  its  bunting,  its  vast  crowds, 
and  its  costume  procession.  On  the  railway  we  sped 
eastward  over  the  Kromme  Khine,  passing  at  the 
frontier  of  the  province  the  fort  Bursteeg,  and  a 
place,  one  of  several  so-called,  the  Klomp.  Then 
across  heaths,  on  which,  in  the  distance  beyond  the 
levels,  were  sandy  and  wooded  hills,  we  gradually 
came  into  a  region  called  "  the  Swiss  Netherlands." 
Our  goal  was  Arnhem.  Here,  our  Dutch  friends  in 
Amsterdam  had  told  us,  we  should  see  scenery  like 
that  in  our  own  country  and  "quite  high  mountains." 
So  to  Arnhem  we  came. 

At  Nijmegen  the  American  remembers  how 
Schenk,  most  famous  ancestor  of  the  great  American 
family  of  that  name,  lost  his  life  in  the  river  after 
his  fruitless  attack  on  that  city.  Other  glances  at 
the  map  reveal  in  the  western  border  the  town  of 
Barneveld,  —  a  name  which,  with  that  of  Maurice, 
in  the  history  of  federal  government,  will  always  be 
as  interesting  as  are  those  of  John  C.  Calhoun  or 
Daniel  Webster,  and  Jefferson  Davis  or  Abraham 
Lincoln.     Further  west,  near  the  border,  he  sees  the 


182  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

village  called  Engelsche  Stad  (English  Town),  one 
of  the  score  or  more  Dutch  reminders  of  the  Angles 
who  helped  to  make  the  Angle-land  or  England 
across  the  sea. 

One  of  the  first  things  to  purchase  was  a  local 
guide-book,  issued  by  an  association  with  a  charm- 
ingly frank  name,  —  the  Society  wishing  to  Attract 
Visitors  to  Arnhem.  The  city  is  old,  and  has  fifty 
thousand  people.  It  was  once,  probably,  the  Roman 
Arenacum,  and  in  mediaeval  times  the  residence  of 
Dukes  of  Gelre.  It  is  still  the  capital  of  fair  Gel- 
derland.  A  ride  in  a  comfortable  carriage,  drawn 
by  two  spirited  horses  in  charge  of  an  unusually  in- 
telligent driver,  enabled  us  to  see  the  promenades 
which  now  occupy  the  old  fortifications  on  which 
Coehorn  exercised  his  genius.  Everything  ancient 
seems  to  be  rapidly  disappearing.  One  almost  ex- 
pects to  find  mould  or  mildew  on  the  few  remaining 
relics  of  antiquity.  It  seems  as  appropriate  as  the 
paten  on  a  classic  bronze  dug  up  yesterday.  Yet  all 
dust  of  time  is  brushed  off  from  Arnhem.  Every- 
thing is  so  fresh,  modern,  bright,  —  almost  as  smart 
and  fashionable-looking  as  the  young  women  who 
brighten  the  streets  with  their  last  new  spring  bon- 
nets from  Paris.  This,  the  day  of  first  impressions, 
was  fortunately  beautiful,  warm,  slightly  misty,  rich 
in  sweet  odors  and  fair  sights. 

Yet  we  did  not  remain  long  in  the  city ;  for, 
as  Boston  is  as  much  noted  for  its  suburbs  as  for 
itself,  so  also  is  Arnhem.  We  bade  our  charioteer 
drive  to  Klarenbeek,  and  soon  we  were  in  a  perfect 
"dream"  of  color.     Both  sides  of  the  way   were 


GLORIOUS  ARNHEM  183 

lined  with  flower-beds,  rich  in  those  gorgeous  tints 
in  which  the  Dutch  revel  to  compensate  them  for 
their  leaden  skies  and  a  sunlight  too  often  and  too 
much  moderated  by  moisture. 

We  rode  past  the  lovely  gardens,  which  often 
reminded  us  of  Japan  and  oriental  lands,  by  the 
strange  plants  and  trees  brought  from  the  spicy 
ends  of  the  earth.  The  sub-tropical  and  far-eastern 
flavor  and  illusion  were  still  further  kept  up  for  us 
by  the  Malay  nurses  and  Javanese  servants  with  the 
Dutch  children.  Arnhem  and  its  environs  form 
the  second  of  the  seven  heavens  which  the  Dutch- 
man who  has  lived  among  the  spice  islands  hopes 
to  reach.  The  Dutch  East  Indies  are  so  well  gov- 
erned that,  happily  for  them,  they  have  no  history. 
Anything  like  a  skirmish,  in  the  supposedly  inter- 
minable Atcheen  war,  is  a  godsend  to  the  news- 
papers. Cuba  has  drawn  a  larger  angle  before  the 
world's  eye  within  fifty  years  than  Java  has  during 
her  whole  history.  The  Dutch  nabobs,  as  they  are 
called,  that  is,  the  successful  merchants  and  officers 
who  have  served  their  country  in  the  East,  come 
back  to  the  lovely  flower-beds  and  mountain  air  of 
Arnhem  to  spend  the  afternoon  of  their  days. 

At  Bronbeek  the  veterans  of  the  wars  retire  to 
rest  and  to  die.  Here  is  a  model  soldiers'  home, 
where  everything  is  under  iron  discipline,  and  the 
lives  of  the  men  made  very  enjoyable  by  the  order, 
neatness,  and  beauty  prevailing.  There  are  no  idle 
moments  and  no  discontented  spirits,  for  every  one 
has  much  to  do  and  plenty  to  enjoy.  Besides  the 
vegetable  gardens,  butchery,  kitchen,  and  tailoring 


184  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

rooms,  in  which  the  men  prepare  what  they  need  for 
food  and  clothing,  there  are  also  library  and  chapel, 
wherein  Protestant  and  Catholic  worship  alternately. 
The  museum  is  full  of  curious  weapons,  which  reflect 
the  Malay  mind  and  temperament  as  surely  as  a 
Springfield  rifle  or  a  United  States  battleship  tell 
of  American  genius  and  feeling.  Here  are  krisses 
that  look  like  lightning  flashes  of  revenge  darting 
unexpectedly  from  the  dark  clouds  of  hate.  Here 
are  cannon  that  in  shape  and  decoration  represent 
well  their  names  of  "  dragon,"  "  centipede,"  "  scor- 
pion," and  show  mythology  in  metal.  Wonderful 
are  the  stories  which  both  the  private  sentinel  and 
the  learned  university  professor  tell  of  the  fascina- 
tion which  the  butts  of  the  artillery  exercise  upon 
the  Orientals.  To  the  Malays  the  cannon  is  a  phal- 
lic emblem.  Often,  as  such,  symbol  of  nature's 
continuity  of  life,  it  is  worshiped. 

The  wheatfields  are  nearly  ready  for  the  harvest, 
for  it  is  the  first  of  July.  Down  under  the  gold, 
the  red  poppies  fling  out  their  scarlet  splendors  and 
the  blue  corn-flower  moves,  lightly  in  the  wind,  the 
white  blossoms  of  the  humble  potato,  less  orna- 
mental than  poppy  or  corn-flower,  but  more  useful, 
completing  the  Dutch  and  American  tri-color.  We 
ride  on  through  the  "  daals  "  (dales)  and  past  the 
"  bergs,"  blue  and  undulating,  alongside  castles  and 
churches,  see  the  fleecy  white  clouds  and  blue  hea- 
vens mirrored  in  the  "  vijvers,"  or  fishponds,  and 
reach  at  last  the  hill  where  is  the  Steenentafel,  or 
table  of  stone,  from  which  there  bursts  suddenly 
and   unexpectedly  upon  our  view  the  magnificent 


GLORIOUS  ARNHEM  185 

panorama  of  the  Rhine  valley.  We  can  almost 
imagine  we  are  amid  the  natural  splendors  of  our 
own  native  Pennsylvania.  The  mountains  swell  and 
dimple  and  wrinkle  in  misty  freshness.  The  Rhine, 
in  silver  glow  and  in  darkening  gloom,  winds  in  and 
out  of  sunshine  and  shadow.  The  view  is  one  for  a 
lifetime. 

Soon  we  ride  down  into  a  great  cathedral  aisle  of 
magnificent  beeches  and  limes.  Standing  mirrored 
in  the  stream  by  the  rpadside  are  three  cows,  superb 
in  form  and  glossy  in  hide,  lifting  up  their  frontlets 
like  stately  creatures  that  are  conscious  of  the  care 
and  love  which  man,  the  master  of  the  earth,  be- 
stows upon  them.  We  exclaim  at  once,  "  There  is 
the  original  of  Jan  Steen's  picture  which  we  saw  at 
the  Hague."  Yet,  where  are  the  small  boys  swim- 
ming ?  Our  long  ride  takes  us  over  and  through 
the  Bosch,  the  Heide,  and  past  more  watercourses. 
Then,  out  of  the  green  glory  of  Arnhem  environs, 
we  come  again  under  the  red-brick  roofs  of  the  city. 

Arnhem  has  had  close  touch  with  England  and 
Scotland.  Not  a  few  of  the  names  we  read  on  shop 
and  house  door  are  English  or  Scottish,  for  here  our 
American  ancestors  were  numerous  during  that 
Dutch  ^ar  of  independence  which  made  ours  possi- 
ble. As  early  as  1638,  ten  or  twelve  English  fami- 
lies, numbering  about  a  hundred  persons,  established 
themselves  in  this  town.  They  obtained  permission 
from  the  magistrates  to  use  for  their  public  worship 
the  Brothers'  Church.  For  two  years  the  famous 
Dr.  Thomas  Goodwin,  afterwards  Cromwell's  friend 
and  the  president  of  Magdalen  College  in  Oxford, 


186  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

was  pastor  here.  Then  for  a  time  the  Rev.  Philip 
Nye,  afterwards  of  the  Independent  Chapel  in  Sil- 
ver Street,  London,  was  the  teacher.  But,  like  the 
ten  "  lost  "  tribes,  —  who  were  never  lost  in  any  way 
except  in  their  language  and  peculiar  nationality,  — 
that  which  would  have  befallen  the  Leyden  Pilgrims 
had  they  remained  in  Holland  happened  to  the 
Englishmen  in  Arnhem ;  that  is,  they  gradually 
gave  up  their  native  speech  and  distinct  organizar 
tion,  and  became  Dutch  people.  To-day  in  Arnhem 
we  see  on  the  doorplates  such  family  names  as  Bev- 
erly, Brown,  Hereford,  and  others  which  I  forgot  to 

copy- 
There  are  other  magnets  to  draw  the  American 
to  Arnhem.  One  naturally  thinks  of  Sir  Philip 
Sidney ;  for  here,  after  receiving  his  wound,  he  was 
brought,  waiting  long  and  patiently  while  bravely 
fighting  death.  How  touching  is  that  passage  in 
his  biography  which  tells  us  how  one  morning,  after 
being  long  accustomed  to  the  smells  of  the  sick-bed, 
its  ointments  and  applications,  he  discerned  a  new 
odor,  and  this  he  knew  meant  death.  Then  his 
soul  marched  on  as  bravely  as  he  had  dashed  to  the 
charge.  His  body  was  actually  seized  for  debt  and 
held  by  his  creditors,  for  Sidney,  neglected  by  his 
fickle  sovereign  and  unappreciative  superiors,  died 
in  poverty.  Nevertheless,  his  funeral  was  one  of  sur- 
passing gorgeousness,  a  spectacle  which  has  drawn 
forth  the  happy  efforts  of  brilliant  artists  to  repre- 
sent it. 

Another  magnet  to  the  American  pilgrim  in  Arn- 
hem was  the  oil  painting  of  President  George  Wash- 


GLORIOUS  ARNHEM  187 

ington,  for  which  he  himself  had  sat  to  the  artist, 
Charles  Peale  Polke,  and  which  he  had  given  to 
Claas  Taan,  the  ancestor  of  the  owner,  Mr.  Peter  de 
Vries.  At  least  two  of  Washington's  personal  gifts 
to  Dutchmen  exist  in  Holland,  —  one,  his  camp-stool 
used  during  the  Revolutionary  War,  which  he  sent 
with  an  autograph  letter  to  Professor  Luzac,  of  Ley- 
den,  and  this  oil  portrait.  Having  letters  of  intro- 
duction, we  called  on  Mr.  Peter  de  Vries.  While 
we  waited  a  few  minutes  in  a  lovely  room  overlook- 
ing a  garden,  we  saw  in  clear  light  on  the  walls  the 
picture  of  him  whom  the  Pennsylvania  Dutchmen 
first  named  the  Father  of  his  Country,  and  then 
we  enjoyed  a  chat  with  the  venerable  owner.  It  is 
a  capital,  unidealized  portrait,  by  an  artist  who  spent 
but  two  years  in  America. 

Claas  Taan,  a  Dutch  shipowner  of  Zaandijk, 
whose  business  had  been  ruined  by  the  British  de- 
claration of  war  in  1781,  broke  the  British  blockade 
of  the  Chesapeake  Bay  during  our  war,  and  brought 
a  cargo  of  flour  and  breadstuffs  at  a  critical  time, 
and  this  won  the  gratitude  of  the  Baltimoreans,  of 
Congress,  and  of  Washington.  Afterward  settling 
in  the  Monumental  City,  Taan  became  a  wealthy 
property  owner.  His  name,  like  that  of  the  Van 
Bibbers,  descendants  of  Lord  Baltimore's  Dutch 
admiral,  belongs  among  those  of  the  many  Dutch- 
men who  could  say  "  Maryland,  my  Maryland."  Mr. 
de  Vries  died  in  1893,  and  the  painting  was  bought 
by  Mr.  van  Scheltema,  of  the  firm  of  Fred.  MuUer 
&  Co.,  of  Amsterdam. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE   AMEKICAN   ARTIST    IN    HOLLAND 

From  Arnhem  Lyra  and  I  went  northwestward 
by  rail  to  Zutphen  on  the  Ijssel.  This  name,  as  well 
as  that  of  the  family  of  Sutphens,  is  nothing  more 
than  a  form  of  South  Fen.  A  vast  change  has  come 
over  the  landscape.  To-day  it  is  as  orderly  and  cul- 
tivated almost  as  a  city  garden.  Ages  ago,  when  the 
Komans'  helmets  glittered  here,  and  until  even  the 
days  when  the  Spanish  sword  and  Dutchman's  pike 
clashed  together,  Zutphen  was  a  town  lying  amid 
far-stretching  morasses. 

Stepping  out  into  the  neat  streets  and  making 
our  way  to  the  great  landmark  and  centre  of  every 
Dutch  town,  as  well  as  its  magnet,  the  Groote  Kerk, 
we  passed  a  school,  out  of  which  the  lads  were  just 
issuing.  I  asked  one  of  a  group  whether  he  could 
show  us  the  spot  where  Sir  Philip  Sidney  lost  his 
life.  Thoroughly  understanding  our  question,  but 
in  honor  preferring  one  another,  the  youth  who  first 
heard  us  called  forward  one  of  their  number,  to 
whom  I  repeated  the  question.  Very  politely  taking 
our  hand-map,  or  "  platte-grond,"  he  showed  the  road 
toward  Warnsveld,  to  the  east. 

On  the  misty  morning  of  September  22,  1586,  as 
the  Spanish  convoy  approached  over  the  moorland 


THE  AMERICAN  ARTIST  IN  HOLLAND      189 

road  to  Warnsveld  Church,  the  English  cavalry, 
led  by  Sir  William  Russell,  was  hastily  called  out 
to  charge.  Waiting  in  the  fog,  which  was  so  dense 
that  a  man  could  scarcely  make  out  ten  paces  off, 
until  the  air  was  clear  was  a  company  of  English 
knights.  The  names  of  almost  all  of  these  are  fa- 
miliar to  reading  Americans  as  historical  figures,  and 
have  been  given  to  our  counties  and  streets,  —  Lords 
Willoughby,  Vere,  Essex,  North,  Audley,  Pelham, 
and  Wingfield. 

Suddenly  the  fog  lifted,  and  the  Spaniards  were 
seen  to  be  in  overwhelming  majority.  Nevertheless, 
the  English  knights  charged  on  their  foe.  Some 
of  them  had  only  partially  dressed,  and  Sidney 
had  mounted  with  his  cuisses  or  leg-guards  off,  hav- 
ing lent  them  to  Sir  William  Pelham.  With  his 
breastplate  as  his  only  defensive  armor,  his  legs  and 
thighs  exposed,  he  fought  desperately  for  two  hours. 
Then,  neither  conquering  nor  conquered,  the  Eng- 
lishmen were  obliged  to  fall  back.  The  convoy  with 
provisions  got  safely  into  the  city,  even  though 
losing  eight  times  as  many  as  the  English,  —  the 
proportions  being  two  hundred  and  fifty  to  thirty- 
four. 

With  a  bullet  wound  in  the  left  thigh,  Sidney  was 
able  to  keep  horse  and  get  back  to  camp.  While 
suffering  the  tortures  of  thirst  which  quickly  come 
to  all  wounded  men  whose  life's  current  is  draining 
away,  he  yielded  generously  to  the  necessity  of  a 
"  common  soldier."  Then  upon  a  boat  he  was  borne 
down  the  river  to  Arnhem,  where  he  died  September 
17,  in   the   arms   of   his  friend,  William   Temple. 


190  THE  AMERICAN   IN  HOLLAND 

Three  of  his  fellow  knights  who  had  charged  with 
him  before  Zutphen  acted  as  his  pall-bearers. 

Though  failing  to  stop  the  Spaniards'  actions,  the 
English  allies  captured  the  forts  on  the  other  side 
of  the  river.  They  thus  drew  the  Duke  of  Parma 
away  from  Rheinberg  and  saved  the  latter  place. 
Leicester  had  opened  his  campaign  with  glory,  hav- 
ing given  the  English  volunteers  splendid  exercise 
and  opportunity  of  service.  Here  and  thus  began, 
with  the  loss  of  the  immortal  brave,  that  experience 
of  nearly  fifty  years  in  the  Low  Countries,  wherein, 
and  by  which,  the  modern  British  army,  not  then 
clad  in  red,  was  created  and  began  its  long  career. 
Among  these  republican  Dutchmen  the  British  sol- 
diers had  their  Anglo-Saxon  inheritance  of  popular 
rights  and  of  individual  liberty  powerfully  rein- 
forced, so  that  they  not  only  took  up  arms  against 
a  traitor  king  at  home,  founded  a  commonwealth  in 
place  of  monarchy,  but  also  insisted  that  the  term 
"  common  "  soldier  should  be  abolished,  and  that  of 
"  private  "  should  take  its  place. 

We  went  into  the  great  church  of  St.  Walburgis, 
which  began  to  rest  on  its  piles  in  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury. Interesting  as  were  its  auditorium,  sculptures, 
font,  and  monuments,  these  were  eclipsed  to  us  in 
interest  by  the  chapter-house  with  its  columns  and 
capitals  worthy  of  study,  and  its  scriptorium  full 
of  old  books,  chained  to  their  desks  as  in  the  days 
before  free  public  libraries.  We  who  came  from 
Massachusetts,  where  there  are  over  three  hundred 
of  these  popular  blessings,  and  from  Boston,  where 
stands  the  handsomest  and  richest  public  library  in 


THE  AMERICAN  ARTIST  IN  HOLLAND      191 

the  world,  —  "  free  to  all,"  even  to  small  boys  and 
girls,  who  can  come  recommended  by  anybody  whose 
name  is  in  the  directory,  —  enjoyed  seeing  these 
books.  Most  of  them,  when  new,  cost  the  wages  of 
a  laboring  man  for  a  whole  year.  Others  were  worth 
a  farm,  with  all  its  crops,  for  a  decade.  In  this 
scriptorium  the  old  Brothers  wrought  with  the  pen, 
prepared  their  parchments,  and  lived  and  died  in 
making  literary  treasures. 

In  this  place  one  can  see  at  once  and  again  how 
stupid  and  silly  are  bigotries  of  all  kinds.  The 
staple  of  Protestant  agitators  is  that  in  Luther's 
time  the  Bible  was  "  chained  "  to  a  desk,  —  which 
isolated  fact  is  left  to  the  imagination  and  logic  of 
all  haters  of  the  old  Church.  Either  from  ignorance 
or  malice,  the  full  truth  is  unstated  that  nearly  all 
books  were  chained  to  the  desk,  because  of  their 
great  value.  There  are  yet  in  Great  Britain  scores 
of  places  where  the  old  rods  or  fixtures,  which  kept 
books  from  thieves,  as  well  as  from  circulation,  still 
remain. 

Here,  too,  are  the  "  incunabula,"  or  cradle-books, 
born  and  nourished  in  the  first  days  of  printing. 
They  are  little  more  than  three  centuries  old,  though 
they  seem  very  ancient  to  us,  as  does  the  early  morn- 
ing of  the  "art  preservative"  in  Europe.  Yet  a 
Korean  scholar  might  smile,  as  did  my  friend  Ming 
Yong  Ik,  of  Seoul,  at  such  antiquity,  when  he  thinks 
of  his  country's  books  printed  from  movable  or 
"  living  "  types  eight  or  nine  centuries  ago. 

To  step  once  more  out  into  the  bright  streets  was 
like  coming  from  the  Middle  Ages  into  this  century 


192  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

of  steam  and  electricity.  We  looked  again  on  the 
great  rushing  river  full  of  rafts  of  timber,  floated 
down  the  Rhine  and  the  Ijssel,  which  make  business 
in  the  town  lively.  Had  I  been  rich  in  time,  I  should 
have  visited  the  agricultural  colony,  founded  in  1851, 
for  the  education  of  poor  boys  and  foundlings,  and 
ridden  through  Warnsfield,  which  is  now  a  smart 
suburb.  I  should  have  visited,  also,  both  the  castle 
of  Nieuwenbeck  and  the  village  of  Voorst,  which 
reminded  us  of  the  many  Van  Vorsts,  some  of  them 
pleasant  neighbors  and  friends,  whose  names  adorn 
the  annals  of  the  mother  country  and  of  central 
New  York. 

The  poet  Horace  sings  of  Pallida  Mors  knocking 
without  partiality  at  the  palace  and  the  hut.  This 
day,  July  12,  like  pale  Death,  I,  too,  go  from  the 
abode  of  royalty  to  the  peasant's  cottage.  The  train 
bears  southwesterly,  crossing  the  Ijssel,  thundering 
down  over  the  heaths,  passing  sand  mountains  on 
the  left  and  "  the  house  in  the  dell,"  and  still  another 
line  of  yellowish  dunes  and  hills,  until  we  stop  at 
the  station  of  Nunspeet.  This  region  is  the  Veluwe, 
or  Bad  Lands,  as  distinguished  from  the  Betuwe,  or 
Good  Meadows.  From  the  "  vel  "  of  the  first  name 
we  get  our  word  vile,  from  "  bet "  in  the  second, 
better  and  Batavia. 

Here,  breaking  the  monotony  of  dull  heath  and 
old  sea  bottom,  are  masses  of  woodland,  one  lying  on 
the  map  like  a  long  green  board,  and  the  other,  in 
which  is  situated  the  village,  stretching  out  in  a  sort 
of  a  gap  in  the  sand,  which  swells  up  toward  Lies- 
berg.  Near  by  is  a  village  called  De  Zoom,  reminding 


THE  AMERICAN  ARTIST  IN  HOLLAND      193 

us  of  Bergen-op-Zoom.  In  the  neighborhood  are 
several  places  ending  in  the  same  "  speet,"  which 
means  something  flat,  like  spatula,  butter-pat,  trowel, 
or  spit.  Over  brick  roads  I  reached  the  hotel,  almost 
lost  in  a  crowd  of  arboreal  giants,  where  an  American 
lady  painter  is  spending  the  summer.  The  American 
in  HoUand  outside  of  the  cities  is  usually  an  artist, 
and  there  are  many  of  her  and  of  him,  and  whole 
colonies  of  them  in  villages  like  Laren  and  Baren- 
drecht. 

Even  so  small  a  place  as  Nunspeet  has  its  guide- 
book, which  tells  of  historic  interests,  paths,  woods, 
and  ponds.  It  is  delightful  here  to  meet  two  of 
my  own  countrywomen,  who  are  from  Milwaukee, 
though  with  a  very  good  acquaintance  in  Boston.  I 
spend  a  delightful  afternoon  in  the  study.  This  has 
been  made  by  fitting  up  an  old  storehouse.  Now, 
with  its  large  windows  admitting  abundant  light, 
with  cosy  furniture  and  an  artist's  belongings  and 
surroundings,  it  makes  a  haven  of  desire. 

For  this  is  a  day  when  Boreas  is  busy.  It  is  one 
of  Holland's  dry  storms.  One  does  indeed  need  an 
umbrella  occasionally,  but  the  chief  elemental  force 
at  work  is  that  of  wind.  This  causes  a  chilliness 
which  makes  the  little  stove  a  welcome  friend.  An 
occasional  dash  of  rain  is  followed  by  brilliant  sun- 
shine, with  great  sweeping  clouds  that  now  curl  into 
white  fleece,  and  anon  spread  out,  tighten,  and 
blacken  into  rain.  All  the  time  the  noise  without 
shows  that  there  is  "  a  sound  of  a  going,"  not  to 
say  a  gong,  —  "  spiritual "  or  otherwise,  —  in  the 
trees. 


194  THE   AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

The  artist  is  adding  to  her  repertoire  of  paintings 
and  sketches  of  Dutch  life  and  character  an  ambi- 
tious canvas  four  by  three  feet,  in  which  she  depicts 
life  among  the  lowly.  Inviting  me  to  visit  with  some 
of  her  humble  friends,  I  gladly  don  hat  and  coat, 
with  umbrella  for  alternate  walking-stick  and  can- 
opy. Over  the  footpaths,  through  the  potato  and 
rye  fields  and  beyond  a  hedge,  we  come  to  the  hum- 
ble home.  The  very  poor  cottager  is  a  widow.  She 
has  two  children  to  rear,  with  little  possibilities  of 
income,  except  from  the  sandy  soil  and  the  dumb 
creatures  which  make  their  home  under  the  same 
roof  with  herself.  The  human  beings  live  within 
brick,  and  the  cattle  within  wooden  waUs,  but  the 
one  ridgepole  is  over  all. 

The  living-room  is  probably  twelve  feet  square. 
In  one  corner,  where  the  mother  sits,  her  face  pre- 
maturely wrinkled,  and  every  wrinkle  a  furrow  of  ex- 
perience telling  of  a  sorrow,  is  the  spinning-wheel, 
on  which  she  is  at  work  even  while  she  talks,  making 
yarn  and  getting  it  ready  for  hose.  Back  of  her, 
against  the  wall,  is  a  little  wooden  case,  in  which  are  a 
few  spoons  and  other  eating  utensils.  In  the  middle 
of  one  wall  and  against  it  is  a  fireplace,  where  are 
crackling  a  few  embers  over  which  hangs  the  kettle, 
and,  farther  up,  a  hole  rather  than  a  chimney.  The 
table  on  which  the  humble  meals  are  set  is  in  the 
middle  of  the  room.  There  are  two  wooden  chairs 
and  a  settee,  and  on  the  walls  a  couple  of  very 
ancient  framed  pictures.  The  lamp  is  of  American 
make,  and  the  oil  which  the  one  little  wise  virgin  of 
the  home  puts  into  it  is  petroleum. 


THE  AMERICAN  ARTIST  IN  HOLLAND      195 

On  the  shelf  is  a  Bible.  The  old-fashioned  hand 
coffee-mill  is  near  by  to  furnish  cheer  during  the  two 
daily  meals.  The  uncarpeted  floor  is  of  brick  and 
stone.  The  bed  is  in  the  closet.  Stepping  outside 
into  the  rear  room  on  the  left,  we  find  the  cow  and 
the  sheep,  that  poke  out  their  noses  and  look  up  at 
us  with  their  bright  eyes,  as  though  they  knew  that 
we  were  friends.  Near  by  is  a  pile  of  cut  grass, 
and  overhead  some  dry  fodder.  On  our  right  is  a 
kind  of  rough  loft  or  closet.  In  this  the  son,  a 
boy  of  ten  or  twelve  and  the  hope  of  the  family, 
sleeps. 

I  was  glad  to  have  seen  first  the  original,  so  as  to 
enjoy  fully  the  copy  in  oil  painting.  The  artist  has 
represented  with  truth  and  pathos  the  home  of  strug- 
gling but  unquerulous  poverty.  No  lack  of  this 
world's  goods  seems  able  to  chill  the  spirits  or  check 
the  flow  of  happy  feeling  in  the  sunny  little  maid 
whom  we  meet  at  the  door  as  we  go  back.  The  de- 
tails of  the  little  home  reappear  in  the  picture.  The 
moment  chosen  is  when,  since  the  cottagers  have  no 
oven  in  which  to  bake  their  bread,  the  loaf  has  come 
home  from  the  baker's.  With  eager  eye  the  boy, 
having  been  trusted  to  weigh  the  ultimate  product 
of  yeast,  flour,  and  caloric,  scrutinizes  the  scales, 
with  an  earnestness  that  seems  unfair  to  youth. 
Why  should  bread  be  so  scarce  and  food  so  hard  to 
win  ?  We  know  now  why  so  many  Dutchmen  emi- 
grate to  America,  where  fertile  soil  awaits  the  tiller, 
and  abundance  the  eater. 

Outdoors  the  surroundings  of  poverty  were  like 
those  within.     A  few  chickens  scratched  vigorously 


196  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

for  a  living,  but  the  fine-feathered  cock  seemed  to 
be  as  proud  of  his  speckled  harem  as  Solomon  was, 
perhaps,  of  his  princesses.  The  little  children  of 
this  Dutch  village,  which  is  a  great  resort  for  paint- 
ers, contrive  to  earn  a  few  dubbeltjes  by  posing  to 
artists.  Political  economy  rules  even  in  the  domain 
of  art.  Even  artists  learn  to  take  advantage  of 
competition  and  cut  down  prices,  until  the  visit  of 
a  foreigner  with  a  palette  is  not  necessarily  a  god- 
send. 

Nevertheless,  this  source  of  revenue  could  not  be 
ignored  by  people  who  live  at  no  remote  distance 
from  the  starvation  line. 

On  the  window-siU  of  the  cottage  lay  a  cast-off 
wooden  shoe  which  the  widpw's  son  had  roofed  over, 
leaving  in  the  centre  of  the  covering  a  slit  large 
enough  for  any  coin,  from  a  dubbeltje  to  a  thaler. 
We  enjoyed  the  jingling  which  our  money  made, 
while  meditating  upon  the  fearful  and  wonderful 
uses  to  which  the  Dutch  klompen  are  put. 

It  is  probably  only  in  nursery  wonder  tales  that 
an  old  woman  lives  in  a  house  made  of  leather, 
but  in  Holland  one  sees  that  the  sabot,  after  serv- 
ing its  varied  uses  as  a  combination  shoe,  in  which 
sole,  heel,  welt,  uppers,  counters,  and  sewing  are  all 
in  one  piece,  enters  into  many  other  utilities.  It  is 
made  an  instrument  of  correction  for  training  up 
disobedient  children  in  the  way  they  should  go,  a 
projectile  for  angry  fellows  to  hurl  at  each  other's 
heads.  It  serves  as  a  money-box,  a  flower-pot,  a 
spoonholder.  In  time  of  flood,  it  becomes  a  lifeboat 
for  little  chickens.     Santa  Claus,  in  lieu  of  a  stock- 


THE  AMERICAN  ARTIST  IN  HOLLAND      197 

ing,  stuffs  it  with  toys,  cookies,  and  with  all  the 
good  things  for  the  model  children,  and  with  miser- 
able straws  for  bad  boys  and  disobedient  girls. 
Again,  as  one  often  sees,  it  is  a  drinking-cup.  At  the 
pump  the  thirsty  small  boy  has  only  to  pull  off  one 
klomp,  rinse  it  out  a  little,  take  a  drink,  and  pass 
the  loving-cup  around.  Finally,  as  firewood,  in  cre- 
mation, the  klomp  returns  to  its  original  elements 
in  the  air. 

From  Lazarus  to  Dives  was  but  a  step.  Leaving 
the  widow,  thankful  for  the  mites  left  her,  we  walked 
over  to  another  house  not  far  away  where  was  a 
cottage,  indeed,  and  yet  the  home  of  the  rich.  The 
walls  and  roof  were  more  substantial.  On  the  out- 
side were  flower-beds,  beehives,  garden  truck,  and 
the  evidences  of  thrift  and  prosperity.  Inside  was 
no  fire,  for  the  busy  wife  was  out,  and  at  first  it 
seemed  doubtful  whether  the  good  man  of  the  house, 
with  his  pipe  in  his  mouth  and  well  armored  in 
woolen,  would  admit  us  into  his  castle  of  three 
rooms.  At  length,  persuading  him  to  do  so,  we 
passed  through  the  kitchen,  which  was  almost  pain- 
fully neat.  In  the  sitting-room  we  found  solid  fur- 
niture, silver,  and  old  keramic  ware.  In  the  bed- 
room, which  was  also  the  parlor,  we  saw  among 
other  wonders  a  great  Dutch  Bible,  reminding  one 
more  of  a  block  of  wood  than  of  anything  to  be 
used  or  enjoyed.  It  was  shielded  with  leather,  and 
guarded  with  metal  clasps. 

By  this  time  the  host  was  getting  communicative. 
Opening  the  ponderous  tome,  he  showed  us  the  mar- 
velously  Dutchy  pictures,  and  especially  the  plan  of 


198  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

the  city  of  Jerusalem,  going  into  some  dogmatic  de- 
tail about  the  temple  of  Sol-o'mon.  Exactly  like 
a  "  platte-grond  "  of  Harlingen  or  Eotterdam  in  the 
seventeenth  century  was  the  plan  and  appearance  of 
the  Holy  City,  and  this  Dutchman  evidently  knew 
all  about  it.  Certainly  we  could  tell  him  nothing. 
Out  in  the  garden  he  turned  upside  down  for  us  his 
hives  packed  full  of  bees.  They  were  too  busy  to 
use  their  stings  upon  our  cuticle,  or  even  to  notice 
us. 

In  the  hour  or  so  before  dinner,  while  the  ladies 
napped,  I  enjoyed  looking  over  and  reading  the  new 
Dutch  magazine,  "  Elsevier's  Maandschrift,"  which 
pictures  finely  with  print  and  illustration  the  modern 
life  and  the  artistic  and  literary  glories  of  the  Neth- 
erlands. At  dinner  I  could  see  that  this  was  a  fa- 
vorite summer  resort  for  families.  My  American 
friends  have  spent  five  or  six  years  in  Holland,  liv- 
ing in  the  Hague  during  the  winter,  and  spending 
the  summer  at  Nunspeet,  or  some  other  rural  para- 
dise like  it.  Familiar  with  the  language,  recognizing 
even  the  slang  and  dialect  not  down  in  the  books, 
the  daughter  proposed,  and  I  encouraged  her,  to 
translate  Hildebrand's  "Camera  Obscura,"  which 
Dutchmen  think  cannot  be  translated. 

The  mother  is  in  love  with  Dutch  civilization.  It 
is  delightful  to  her  eyes  to  find  no  spoiling  of  scenery 
by  advertisements.  The  approaches  to  the  towns 
and  villages  and  the  immediate  surroundings  of  the 
railway  station  are  made  beautiful  and  pleasant. 
The  study  by  the  people  of  beauty  as  a  permanent 
force  to  life  is  commendable.     The  country  in  gen- 


THE  AMERICAN  ARTIST  IN  HOLLAND      199 

eral  induces  a  spirit  of  quiet  restf ulness,  so  grateful 
to  the  overwrought  American. 

It  is  undoubtedly  true  that  there  are  in  Dutch 
civilization  many  points  of  superiority  over  ours, 
and  we  have  yet  to  learn  many  excellent  things  from 
the  quiet  Hollanders.  They  can  certainly  criticise 
us  wisely,  as  I  have  seen,  in  Dr.  Cohen  Stuart's 
book,  "  Door  Amerika." 

From  Nunspeet  male  laborers  go  annually  up  into 
Drenthe  to  cut  and  strip  off  the  bark  from  young 
timber.  Here  also  in  this  village  is  a  highly  suc- 
cessful Bonte,  or  profit-sharing  labor  colony,  well 
worthy  of  study.  Netherland  is  rich  in  experience, 
and  many  are  the  social  experiments  nobly  tried 
on  this  soil  enriched  not  by  nature,  but  by  man's 
patience,  tenacity,  and  faith.  Agneta  Park,  near 
Delft,  transformed,  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  J.  C.  van 
Marken  and  their  helpers,  from  a  black  and  marshy 
plot  into  a  paradise  of  industry  and  plenty,  is  a  good 
"modern  instance."  Yeast,  glue,  gelatin,  spirits, 
are  the  commercial  products  of  this  ideal  village,  in 
which,  with  homes  and  halls  of  recreation  for  mind 
and  body,  two  hundred  families  dwell.  Verily  the 
Dutch  mines  of  wealth  are  not  below,  but  above  the 
soil. 

The  Dutch,  no  more  than  Americans,  are  not 
afraid  to  try  experiments,  even  in  various  tolerations. 
"Toekomst"  (the  future)  is  a  great  word  in  this 
land  of  experience,  but  also  of  hope.  I  remember  a 
passage  in  Lowell's  essay  "  On  a  Certain  Condescen- 
sion in  Foreigners :  "  — 

"For  more  than  a  century  the  Dutch  were  the 


200  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

laughingstock  of  polite  Europe.  .  .  .  In  the  natural 
course  of  things  we  succeeded  to  this  unenviable 
position  of  general  butt." 

Yet  year  by  year,  even  Europeans  understand  us. 
The  facts  of  the  nobler  progress  are  patent.  Grad- 
ually they  are  learning  the  secrets.  We  have  not 
been  afraid  to  profit  by  what  Holland  and  mother 
England  taught. 


CHAPTER  XXII 
FROM  HAEDERWIJK  TO  HET  LOO 

From  the  groves  of  Nunspeet  I  rode  to  Harder- 
wijk  over  the  Veluwe,  or  vile  heaths,  of  Gelderland, 
where  the  sand  is  so  unstable  and  the  wind  is  so  for- 
cible that  great  wattles  have  to  be  set  up  along  the 
railway  for  miles,  to  keep  the  sand  from  blowing 
over  the  tracks. 

Harderwijk,  in  its  derivation,  may  mean  perhaps 
MuUetville,  after  the  fish  of  that  name,  but  one 
must  not  be  dogmatic  in  the  matter  of  Dutch  ety- 
mology, not  having,  as  in  Chinese,  the  advantage 
of  ancient  ideographs  that  speak  to  the  eye  as  well 
as  to  the  ear.  Possibly  the  name  may  also  mean 
Shepherd's  Cove.  The  unwelcome  bear  of  research 
often  knocks  over  the  honey  of  tradition  as  rudely 
as  in  the  fable,  while  again  the  antiquarian  Bruin 
is  stung  and  driven  away  by  the  clouds  of  bees  in 
the  form  of  industrious  controvertists. 

Once  a  fair  inland  town,  Harderwijk  became  a 
seaport  by  the  great  inundation  of  the  thirteenth 
century,  when  Lake  Flevo,  borrowing  the  ocean's 
mass,  became  the  Zuyder  Zee.  Later,  it  joined  the 
Hanseatic  League,  and  was  a  place  of  mighty  com- 
merce. It  has  had  a  varied  history  of  siege  and 
capture  by  the  Spaniards  and  the  Bishop  of  Miin- 


202  THE   AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

ster.  It  is  the  birthplace  of  not  a  few  illustrious 
men,  and  of  several  more  whose  family  name  was 
Van  Harderwijk.  In  honor  of  the  great  peace  which 
ended  the  Eighty  Years'  War  of  independence,  a 
university  was  established  here  in  1648.  As  Gel- 
derland's  High  School,  it  flourished  with  many  an 
illustrious  teacher  in  its  faculty,  until  1811.  Then 
Napoleon  closed  its  doors. 

We  put  up  at  the  Hotel  Du  Croix,  over  against 
the  great  church.  Though  the  wind  was  blowing 
most  uncomfortably,  I  sailed  out  to  see  what  was 
left  of  Harderwijk's  ancient  glory,  for  at  present 
almost  the  only  interest  which  Dutchmen  at  large 
have  in  the  town  is  as  a  depot  for  East  Indian  re- 
cruits, not  a  few  of  whom  I  saw  along  the  quiet 
streets.  I  observed  in  the  house  windows  the  little 
sign  "geen  groente,"  —  a  notice  to  peddlers  that 
"  no  greens  "  or  table  vegetables  were  wanted  that 
day.  Salutes  from  old  fellows  who  touched  or  took 
off  their  caps  to  me  were  frequent.  Perhaps  they 
supposed  me  an  officer  in  citizen's  dress.  I  remem- 
ber that  in  rural  Japan,  riding  men  would  dismount 
from  their  horses  in  my  honor  as  I  went  by,  they 
supposing  me  to  be  a  Samurai. 

The  strong  west  wind  had  made  the  water  of  the 
Zuyder  Zee  overstream  the  meadows  and  fields. 
The  green  sward  had  again  become  the  place  where 
the  fish  reveled,  finding  new  and  fresh  food.  To  me 
it  looked  dangerous,  as  I  bethought  myself  that  the 
town  was  but  a  few  inches  above  the  level  of  the 
sea ;  but  the  natives  did  not  seem  to  mind  it.  The 
seagulls  were  at  the  height  of  enjoyment.     Moving 


FROM  HARDERWIJK  TO  HEX  LOO         203 

in  clouds  over  the  new  feeding-grounds  thus  sud- 
denly provided,  they  flashed  white  sheets  of  light 
against  the  gray  sky  as  they  swooped  into  the  shal- 
low water,  bringing  up  scaly  tidbits  which  palely 
glittered  in  the  fitful  sun  rays. 

Here  was  history's  allegory,  —  the  story  of  Neder- 
land  in  an  object  lesson.  Furnishing  a  home  alter- 
nately for  fish  and  for  cattle,  for  fin  and  for  hoof, 
with  the  swallow  and  the  gull,  the  sunshine  and  the 
wave,  the  salt  and  the  fresh  water,  this  pre-ancient 
no-man's-land,  once  the  sea  bottom,  has  finally  be- 
come a  place  of  homes.  The  half  thousand  square 
miles  in  the  Koman  age  have  become  the  twelve 
thousand  of  our  time. 

A  fine  breakwater  built  out  beyond  the  shallows 
makes  a  good  haven.  The  fishing-boats  owned  here 
are  marked  HK,  —  the  initial  and  final  letters  in 
the  tovm's  name.  When  the  Zuyder  Zee  shall  have 
been  pumped  out,  Harderwijk  will  again  become  an 
inland  town,  many  miles  away  from  that  Ijssel  Meer 
which  science  is  to  delimit. 

There  were  plenty  of  ancient  mariners  in  their 
picturesque  costumes,  and  many  other  things  to  see 
along  the  water  fronts,  though  vision  was  difficult. 
To  have  one's  eyeglasses  nearly  blown  awry^ 
knocked  away,  or  off  the  nose-bridge,  and  every  ^ye 
minutes  dimmed  by  the  moisture,  or  in  danger  of 
being  ground  opaque  by  the  driving  sand,  was  not 
a  pleasant  experience. 

Harderwijk  is  rich  in  those  benevolent  institu- 
tions without  which  a  Dutch  town  scarcely  exists. 
Here  was  even  a  home  for  aged   couples,  which  I 


204  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

once  heard  spoken  of  in  Boston,  where  they  had 
one  such,  as  "a  Boston  idea,"  though  the  Nether- 
landers  have  hundreds,  and  have  had  them  for  cen- 
turies. Following  custom,  I  left  my  card  with  the 
Dutch  teacher  of  English.  He  was  out,  but  called 
later  upon  me  at  my  hotel,  and  courteously  answered 
my  questions. 

When  the  Netherlanders  won  their  freedom  from 
allied  Spain  and  Eome,  they  safeguarded  their 
prize  by  education  based  on  the  Bible,  —  that  sledge 
which  breaks  the  mind's  chains  and  that  anvil 
which  wears  out  all  hammers.  Five  of  these  "  High 
Schools  "  were  started,  at  Leyden  in  1575,  at  Frane- 
ker  in  1585,  at  Groningen  in  1612,  at  Utrecht  in 
1686,  and  at  Harderwijk  in  1648,  the  latter  sur- 
viving until  1818.  Amsterdam  later  founded  a 
university,  now  as  famed  for  its  medical  faculty  as 
Leyden  is  for  law  and  the  physical  sciences,  and 
Utrecht  and  Groningen  are  for  theology.  No  traces 
of  the  Harderwijk  University  remain  in  the  city, 
and  the  old  books  and  apparatus  have  been  scat- 
tered in  Arnhem,  ZwoUe,  and  Leeuwarden. 

Next  morning  X  was  awakened  by  the  thunder- 
roar  of  the  Zuyder  Zee,  which  had  been  lashed  into 
wrath  by  the  west  wind.  It  was  a  grand  spectacle, 
this  shallow  sea  wrestling  with  the  gale,  its  water 
furrowed  and  twisted  into  billows  of  every  shape. 
Far  out,  the  ships  seemed  tossed  as  if  between  the 
horns  of  wind  and  wave.  One  stranded  boat  had 
its  skin  of  gunwale  torn  off,  exposing  its  oaken  ribs. 
As  I  walked  around  the  town  again,  I  passed  a 
white  marble  bust  of  Linnaeus  set  in  a  tower.     The 


FROM  HARDERWIJK  TO  HET  LOO         205 

great  botanist  took  his  degree  in  1735  at  the  Har- 
derwijk  University,  and  beautified  this  city  by  lay- 
ing out  a  garden.  The  young  Swede  came  to  Hol- 
land because  this  little  country  was  then  the  leader 
of  science.  He  met  Boerhave  and  the  savants  at 
Leyden,  where  he  wrote  and  published  his  immortal 
books. 

Returning  to  my  hotel,  I  found  in  the  chief  room 
a  farmers'  meeting  for  a  Verkoop,  or  sale  of  the 
rye  crop.  There,  as  well  as  out  in  the  bustling 
market,  I  enjoyed  as  good  an  opportunity  as  ever 
Rembrandt  had,  to  study  Dutch  faces  in  repose. 
The  array  of  bucolic  noses  reminded  me  of  what 
Hamel  tells  of  his  adventures  in  Korea.  There 
the  Orientals  were  impressed  with  the  vastness  and 
prominence  of  this  facial  ornament.  The  common 
Korean  rumor  was  that  the  Dutchmen  had  to  tuck 
up  their  noses  whenever  they  took  a  drink.  Cer- 
tainly, the  Netherlanders  are  a  nation  with  noses. 
They  have  character.  Silver  buckles  and  thick 
woolen  clothes  were  conspicuous  on  this  very  windy 
day.  In  hearing  the  talk  of  the  peasants  in  the 
marketplace,  I  was  impressed  with  the  fact  that 
theirs  was  purer  Dutch  and  more  like  English  than 
was  the  polished  conversation  of  scholars  and  gen- 
tlemen. 

Leaving  Harderwijk,  I  asked  the  conductor  at  the 
station  to  put  me  in  a  car  marked  "  Niet  Rooken  " 
(no  smoking).  He  did  so,  and  I  took  my  seat.  Im- 
mediately four  men,  all  smokers,  with  lighted  cigars 
between  their  lips,  got  in  with  me.  The  government 
taxes  all  the  fireplaces  in  the  kingdom,  —  except  a 


206  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Dutchman's  mouth,  the  bjisiest  of  aU.  Human  flues 
and  chimneys  are  exempted,  and  tobacco  is  free. 
They  say  a  Hollander  cannot  see  after  four  P.  M., 
because  of  smoke.  Nevertheless,  the  floor  of  the 
Dutch  smoking-car  is  not  usually  like  a  pigpen,  as 
in  America.  After  a  day's  use,  the  grayish  boards 
resemble  rather  a  praitie  after  a  fire.  The  debris, 
consisting  of  ashes  in  plenty,  of  burned  and  un- 
burned  tobacco  and  old  match-tips,  is  dry.  There 
is  little  spitting.  The  cuspidor  is  not  so  truly  a 
national  utensil  as  it  is  under  the  stars  and  stripes. 
Gelderland  is  rich  in  graphic  symbols.  Glancing 
over  the  list  of  town  arms,  I  note  that  of  Barneveld, 
which  perhaps  means  the  burned  or  the  warm  field, 
and  has  for  its  blazon  a  moth  basking  in  the  sun. 
Doesburg  bears  a  castle  (of  Drusus),  and  over  it 
two  crescents.  Eibergen,  or  Egg  Hills,  keeps  on  its 
shield  three  products  of  the  hen.  This  reminds  one 
of  Easter  Hill  in  old  Philadelphia,  on  which  the 
old  Dutch  people  used  to  come  out  on  Easter  Mon- 
day and,  by  rolling  eggs  down  the  slope,  play  games 
of  forfeits.  Long  ago  the  hill  was  leveled,  its  val- 
ley filled  up,  and,  since  piles  were  not  used,  house- 
owners  have  had  to  pay  many  a  bill  to  mason  and 
bricklayer  because  of  the  sinking  of  foundations. 
Harderwijk  boasts  a  lion  with  bricks  of  turf.  Hat- 
tem's  king  of  beasts  wears  a  star  inside  of  its  curled 
tail.  In  the  arms  of  Warnsveld  an  angel  is  stran- 
gling a  Serpent.  Wageningen  shows  a  wagon-wheel. 
Zutphen  has  a  two-tailed  lion  on  a  shield  held  by 
two  of  his  fellows,  all  crowned.  These  are  in  no 
danger  of  gossiping,  for  they  have  no  tongues. 


FROM  HARDERWIJK  TO  HET  LOO         207 

Having  twice  traversed  Gelderland,  in  directions 
from  north  to  south  and  south  to  north,  I  set  out  on 
July  18, 1895,  to  cross  it  from  west  to  east.  Leav- 
ing Amsterdam  at  7  P.  m.,  I  took  the  train  which  bore 
the  signs  of  the  two  frontier  towns,  Nieuwschanz 
and  Winterswijk.  The  frontiers  of  North  Holland 
and  Utrecht  were  passed  shortly  after  leaving 
Amersfoort,  and  over  the  "  velds,"  "  bergs,"  "  loos," 
and  "  daals  "  (fields,  hills,  groves,  and  dales)  of  the 
Veluwe,  we  sped  to  Apeldoorn,  a  name  meaning 
apple  thorn,  and  reminding  us  of  the  jingle  of  the 
children's  games,  "  Intra,  mintra,"  etc. 

We  passed  through  many  deep  cuts  between  the 
sandhills.  The  great  yellowish  heaths  were  turned 
into  green  here  and  there,  with  tobacco  fields,  where 
fuel  and  foulness  for  the  mouth  is  raised.  In  the 
main  the  Veluwe  is  a  vile  wilderness.  The  railway 
territory  is  divided  into  blocks,  named  after  the  let- 
ters of  the  alphabet,  at  each  of  which  is  a  little  house 
with  railroad  signals  conspicuous.  Here  stands  a 
woman,  flag  in  hand,  with  a  red-lined  and  red-collared 
blue  coat  and  hat  of  black  enameled  stuff.  The 
Netherland  railway  companies  find  that  these  signal- 
women  are  less  apt  to  get  drunk  than  men.  Here 
is  a  fine  specimen  of  woman's  work  faithfully  done. 
Of  727  apothecaries  in  Holland,  313  are  women.  As 
oyster-dredgers,  brickmakers,  turf-diggers,  as  well 
as  embroiderers,  engravers,  housemaids,  or  authors 
and  artists,  the  Dutch  women  do  well. 

All  the  servants  of  the  railway  corporation  wear 
a  distinguishing  badge,  cap,  or  uniform,  adopted  a 
half  century  or  more  ago.     The  station-master  has 


208  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

a  scarlet  cap,  the  conductor  a  crimson  belt  of  enam- 
eled leather  over  the  left  shoulder  and  breast,  and 
the  porter  a  metal  disk  with  a  number. 

Occasionally  on  the  horizon  line  we  saw  a  wind- 
mill, a  church  spire,  or  a  wooded  hill,  but  most  of 
the  landscape  consisted  of  level  heath.  This  is  not 
a  turf  but  a  sod  heath,  with  embroideries  of  color  or 
tufts  of  grass.  Among  the  many  tinted  crusts  of 
sand  were  fertile  spots  or  strips  near  the  railway 
houses,  where  nature  and  art  combining  had  tickled 
the  sterile  earth  to  smile  flowers.  Occasionally  we 
took  on  a  passenger,  who  would  politely  say  "  Mor- 
gen,"  or  good-morning. 

Some  of  the  sandhills  seemed  almost  like  moun- 
tains. The  Aardmanberg  measures  107,  the  Water- 
berg  and  the  Philipsberg,  107,  the  Essop  100,  and 
the  Imbosch  110  metres  in  height,  while  the  Veluwe 
Zoom,  a  range  of  hills  just  north  of  the  Rhine  and 
the  Ijssel,  give  to  that  region  and  to  Arnhem  an 
almost  mountainous  character.  It  was  indeed  an 
unwonted  experience  in  the  Netherlands  to  ride  in 
deep  cuts,  shut  out  from  much  of  the  sunlight,  with 
banks  of  sand  on  either  side.  There  was  a  strange 
feeling  in  having  the  view  of  the  horizon  broken, 
and  only  here  and  there  emerging  into  open  spaces 
with  vistas. 

Along  the  route  were  piles  of  cut  brush,  and 
masses  of  yellow  heath  flowers.  Often  the  sand 
was  heaped  or  divided  like  the  embrasures  in  forti- 
fications, with  towers  a^d  crenelations.  Occasionally 
we  saw  dots  of  dried  sod  stacked  up  for  winter  fuel. 
Then  we  rode  over  billowy  furzy  land  swelling  up  to 


FROM  HARDERWIJK  TO   HET  LOO         209 

the  horizon,  and  again  passed  a  brick  railway  house. 
The  "  bosch,"  or  forests,  along  the  way  were  mostly 
of  slender  pine-trees,  which  I  perforce  contrasted 
with  the  giant  pines  of  Maine  or  Niskayuna,  N.  Y., 
in  home  regions,  or  the  fat  monarchs  of  Zwolle.  I 
wondered  whether  in  olden  times  there  were  not 
many  robberies  on  this  lonely  heath,  to  which  the 
modern  railway  and  telegraph  have  given  an  artery 
and  nerves. 

Before  reaching  Apeldoorn,  which  is  a  flourishing 
city  of  nearly  twenty  thousand  people,  we  passed 
one  of  the  several  great  groves  which  adorn  and 
beautify  this  region.  This  is  a  land,  not  of  "  bosh  " 
but  of  genuine  "  bosch."  Holt  land,  or  Holland, 
the  country  of  many  woods,  has  its  capital  appro- 
priately at  The  Hedge,  while  the  Queen's  summer 
palace  is  at  the  Het  Loo,  The  Grove.  On  this 
swell  of  high  ground  lives  the  young  Queen  "Wil- 
helmina,  whose  face  on  paper  and  metal  is  rubbed 
daily  on  a  million  coins,  and  stamped  and  pounded 
in  ten  thousand  post-offices. 

Apeldoorn  is  one  of  the  loveliest  towns  in  the 
Netherlands.  It  is  a  perfect  maze  of  charming 
streets  and  brick  paths  winding  in  and  out  among 
sylvan  shades,  with  pretty  churches,  hotels,  dwell- 
ings, and  cottages.  Pebbly  paths  allure  one  to  me- 
morial seats  of  stone,  before  "  vijvers,"  or  fishponds. 
Great  avenues  of  lichen-embossed  beech-trees  attract 
the  rambler  to  move  at  his  own  sweet  will.  In  the 
sunny  hours,  the  golden-haired,  blue-eyed,  and  pink- 
cheeked  babies  are  out  with  their  nurses.  Mother- 
hood is  honorable  in  this  country  until  the  quiver 
is  full. 


210  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Even  the  royal  palace  is  a  homelike  structure 
that  makes  you  feel  that  this  is  a  land  of  homes. 
There  is  an  imposing  gateway  painted  white,  and 
capped  with  symbols  of  Roman  legend  and  foster- 
motherhood.  There  are  also  sphinxes,  with  mighty 
bosoms.  These  four  figures  have  been  so  often 
clothed  in  white  paint  that  they  are  like  some  of 
the  pictures  of  the  old  masters,  nearly  ruined  by 
age-stratified  varnishings. 

The  abode  of  royalty  seems  almost  too  cosy  and 
comfortable  for  any  poor  unfortunate  condemned  to 
wear  a  crown.  But  then,  this  bauble  is  but  slightly 
affected  in  this  free  land.  The  "  palace  "  befits 
finely  a  land  where  "  home  "  is  an  aboriginal  word. 
There  are  no  hinged  or  barred  iron  gates  forbidding 
entrance.  Instead  of  military  force,  only  one  very 
gentlemanly  officer-guard  walks  in  the  clear  cool  air. 
Against  the  f  acjade  of  the  home  is  a  clock  that  seems 
friendly  and  serviceable.  The  railway  runs  up  to 
a  brick  platform  to  the  right  of  the  gateway,  and 
the  tri-color  floats  from  the  top  of  the  pediment. 
It  seems  as  simple  and  dignified  as  the  imperial 
residence  in  old  Japan.  The  fence,  also,  which  goes 
around  the  Loo  park  is  wonderfully  like  that  in 
Kyoto  surrounding  the  Mikado's  palace.  Within 
the  royal  inclosure  are  parks,  vijvers,  flower-beds, 
and  everything  to  suggest  a  happy  marriage  of 
nature  and  art. 

This  is  indeed  the  land  of  bosch  and  vijver,  hout 
and  hedge,  of  ivy  and  creeper  vine.  The  lanes 
around  Apeldoorn  seem  Englishlike,  with  their 
walls  both  high  and  low,  well-clipped  hedges  fur- 


FROM  HARDERWIJK  TO  HEX  LOO         211 

nishing  privacy  and  reserve.  There  is  not  an  abun- 
dance of  water,  but  there  are  some  canals,  else  this 
would  not  be  Holland.  The  Reformed  Church  is  a 
great  structure,  looking  quite  smart  and  new  in  its 
rich  red  brick.  It  is  rare  that  one  sees  a  newly- 
built  brick  Reformed  Church  of  imposing  size. 
The  large  fresh  edifices  are  mostly  Roman  Catho- 
lic. There  are  indeed  many  new  houses  of  worship, 
but  they  are  for  the  most  part  small  and  erected  by 
congregations  of  the  Christian  Reformed  Church, 
who  receive  no  state  or  inherited  aid,  but  make 
free-will  offerings  out  of  their  own  purses. 

It  was  a  good  season  to  see  a  Dutch  summer  city. 
Tulip  time  was  over,  and  cherry  and  strawberry  days 
had  come.  I  can  say  from  experience  that  the 
Apeldoorn  cherries  are  good. 


UTRECHT 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
UTRECHT:   PROVINCE  AND   CITY 

In  the  very  heart  of  the  kingdom,  Utrecht  is  the 
only  province  which  bears  what  is  probably  a  Latin 
name.  Five  of  the  provinces  have  names  ending  in 
"  land."  One  is  the  namesake  of  a  river.  Drenthe 
and  Groningen,  Brabant  and  Limburg,  are  nomi- 
nated from  Celtic  or  Germanic  elements  on  the  soil. 
Smallest  of  the  eleven  divisions,  Utrecht's  name  is 
but  a  synonym  for  a  river-crossing,  like  Bosphorus, 
Oxford,  or  Coevorden. 

The  Romans,  to  whom  the  Rhine  was  the  great 
landmark  of  the  Germanic  world,  knew  well  the 
fords,  each  of  which  they  called  "trajectum,"  or 
crossing.  The  Inferior  Trecht,  or  Lower  Ford,  was 
at  Maastricht,  but  the  Ultra  or  Distant  Ford  was 
where  Utrecht  city  now  stands.  "  Ultra  Trajectum  " 
became  "  Utrecht,"  though  between,  in  point  of  time, 
was  the  Oude-trecht,  that  is,  the  Old  Ford.  Even 
so,  the  Dutch  in  New  Netherland  gave  the  name 
Little  Falls  to  the  place  between  Utica  and  Amster- 
dam where  the  Mohawk  waters  burst  through  their 
rocky  barriers,  and  Great  Falls  to  the  large  cascade 
at  Cohoes  near  the  end  of  the  valley.  On  Long 
Island  they  founded  New  Utrecht. 

Though  oldest  in  history  and  largest  in  religious 


216  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

and  civilizing  influences  during  the  Middle  Ages, 
Utrecht,  like  many  states  both  famous  and  potent,  is 
not  great  in  area,  being  but  half  the  size  of  Rhode 
Island.  Touching  her  boundaries  are  Grelderland, 
Brabant,  North  and  South  Holland,  and  the  Zuy- 
der  Zee.  Brabant,  Limburg,  and  Drenthe  are  the 
three  inland  states  which  have  no  seacoast.  Ancient 
Utrecht  lay  far  inland.  The  ocean  inundation, 
which  turned  Lake  Flevo  into  the  Zuyder  Zee,  gave 
Utrecht  a  little  strip  of  water  frontier,  not  much 
more  than  five  miles  long,  but  sufficient  for  the  emp- 
tying of  the  Eem  Eiver. 

My  first  introduction  to  province  and  city  was  in 
the  closing  days  of  June,  1891.  The  city  was  gayly 
decorated  with  greenery,  flowers,  floral  designs,  and 
countless  flags  in  honor  of  the  Lustrum  Feast.  It 
was  the  two  hundred  and  fifty-fifth  anniversary  of 
the  founding  of  the  University,  the  dear  "  Acade- 
mia,"  which  is  the  pride  of  the  place.  Even  the 
cheese,  milk,  and  grocery  shops  had  their  wares 
artistically  arranged,  with  flowers  set  or  devices 
made  to  read  "Yivat  academia."  The  outraying 
sun,  the  golden  letters  V.  A.,  and  the  dates  1636- 
1891  were  everywhere. 

The  old  Romans  used  to  hold  a  great  sacrifice  with 
rites  of  purification  every  five  years,  called  a  lustrum. 
The  Dutch  students  apply  this  term  to  their  semi- 
decennial  festivals.  The  eve  of  the  lustrum  feast, 
in  this  year  of  1891,  was  cool,  starry,  and  fragrant 
with  the  perfume  of  many  flowers,  while  the  streets 
were  ablaze  with  globes  of  light  and  uncounted  col- 
ored lanterns  of  glass  and  paper.     A  happy  throng 


UTRECHT:   PROVINCE  AND  CITY  217 

from  town  and  country,  not  yet  boisterous  in  their 
joy,  filled  the  thoroughfares. 

The  next  day,  June  30,  was  bright  and  fair.  The 
great  occasion  which  brought  probably  one  hundred 
thousand  people  into  Utrecht  was  the  celebration 
by  the  students  of  the  battle  of  St.  Quentin,  in 
which  the  Netherlanders  defeated  the  French  and 
Counts  Egmont  and  Hoorn  won  glory,  the  former 
becoming  the  idol  of  the  army.  This  little  town  of 
France,  in  Aisne  on  the  Somme,  stands  to-day  with 
a  population  of  nearly  forty  thousand,  a  noble  ca- 
thedral, a  town  hall,  court  house  and  hospital,  canal 
and  railway.  Here  are  made  those  charming  striped 
and  spotted  muslins,  laces,  and  dry  goods  of  many 
names,  known  best  by  their  feminine  purchasers. 
In  a  word,  the  place  is  now  wholly  given  up  to 
peaceful  manufactures  for  the  clothing  of  women 
and  of  dinner-tables,  but  on  August  10,  1557,  to 
carnage.  Here  English  and  Spaniards  were  allies 
and  comrades.  The  Dutchmen  owned  Philip  II.  as 
their  sovereign,  Egmont  won  fame  and  glory,  and 
the  constable  of  Montmorency  was  defeated. 

The  Dutch  youth  seem  never  happier  than  when 
in  costume  reproducing  exactly  old  dresses  and  wea- 
pons. So  rich  and  magnificent  are  the  uniforms 
that  one  sees  nothing  modern,  except  the  eyeglasses 
perched  upon  the  wearers'  noses.  First  in  the  grand 
procession  in  this  celebration  is  the  army  of  the 
Netherlands,  led  by  the  colonel,  Alfonso  Casera,  a 
Spaniard,  on  horseback,  the  vanguard  of  the  Span- 
ish infantry  being  on  foot.  Next  follow  the  English 
"help-troops,"  or  auxiliaries.     Here   we   recognize 


218  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  William  Herbert ;  Clinton, 
Count  of  Lincoln ;  Arthur  Grey,  Lord  of  Wilton ; 
Anton  Browne,  the  castle-lord  Montague;  Queen 
Elizabeth's  lover  and  friend,  Robert  Dudley,  Earl 
of  Leicester ;  and  Ambrose  Dudley,  Count  of  War- 
wick ;  all  with  a  brave  following  of  English  foot- 
soldiers,  who,  in  our  Dutch  hand-book,  which  is 
very  full  and  accurate  in  detail,  are  marked  anon- 
ymi. 

Next  in  all  the  splendor  of  color  and  feathers, 
with  dazzling  gear  for  man  and  horse,  comes  the 
commander-in-chief  with  his  staff.  Two  gorgeously 
attired  pages  are  in  advance ;  then  rides  the  Duke 
of  Savoy,  Emanuel  Filibert,  who  is  Captain-General 
of  the  Netherlanders.  He  is  one  of  those  splendid 
mercenaries  who,  like  his  brethren  of  Italy,  was 
ready  to  fight  in  all  causes  and  take  his  pay  from 
any  sovereign. 

Most  interesting  in  our  eyes  is  Filips  van  Mont- 
morency, Count  of  Hoorn,  Lord  of  Altena  and 
Weert,  and  Knight  of  the  Order  of  the  Golden 
Fleece.  More  handsome,  probably,  than  the  ori- 
ginal of  two  centuries  ago,  the  modern  masquerader 
rides  a  superb  horse,  decorated  with  straps  and 
bells,  himself  in  velvet  coat,  beef-eater's  hat,  and 
long  buff  leggings.  Bright  are  the  eyes  which  from 
balcony  and  window  rain  influence,  and  fair  are  the 
hands  that  cast  sweet  flowers  in  his  path.  In  reality 
the  rider  is  one  of  that  charming  family  in  whose 
homes  we  have  been  at  Amsterdam  and  Zeist. 

Next  in  splendor  of  horse -gear  and  personal 
adornment  comes  Lodewijk  of  Brederode,  of  whom 


UTRECHT:   PROVINCE  AND  CITY  219 

history  tells,  whose  ancestral  castle  was  near  Bloe- 
mendaal,  and  his  own  stronghold  at  Vianen.  The 
modern  personator  is  a  great-grandson  of  Luzac  of 
Leyden,  Washington's  friend.  He  is  followed  by  a 
Dutchman,  one  of  many  of  the  Scotch  name  Mc- 
Kay, who  takes  the  part  of  Count  Egmont.  William, 
Prince  of  Orange,  whose  titles  and  honors  are  nu- 
merous, rides  in  velvets  of  gorgeous  colors  upon  a 
lively  horse.  Time  fails  to  tell  the  names  and  titles 
of  the  historic  figures  here  represented  by  rosy- 
cheeked  young  Dutchmen.  Some  have  a  close  touch 
with  American  history.  Many  are  of  Knights  of 
the  Golden  Fleece.  The  horsemen  of  Count  Egmont 
are  also  marked  in  the  guide-book,  anonymi. 

The  fourth  division  consists  of  the  German  auxil- 
iaries, cavalry,  and  footmen.  Peacefully  to-day  march 
with  them  French  troops,  the  advance  consisting  of 
pipers  and  drummers.  After  them  on  horseback 
come  the  Bourbons,  the  Stuarts,  knights  and  officers, 
followed  by  the  Swiss  soldiers.  These  are  succeeded 
by  the  French  commander  and  his  staff.  The  Duke 
of  Montmorency  has  a  string  of  titles  only  some- 
what less  numerous  than  the  barbules  of  his  ostrich 
feathers.  Two  pages  are  in  his  train.  More  of  the 
knights  and  lords  of  Bourbon,  Orleans,  Savoy,  and 
La  Tour  follow,  after  whom  step  the  French  infan- 
try, who  are  anonymi,  A  rear-guard  of  knights, 
officers,  and  infantry  finishes  the  procession.  The 
long  line  is  headed  by  the  corps  of  mounted  musi- 
cians from  the  third  regiment  of  hussars  stationed 
at  the  Hague.  It  is  finished  by  the  band  of  the 
fifth  regiment  of  infantry  from  Amersfoort. 


220  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

The  handbook  gives  a  rich  programme  of  con- 
certs, balls,  matinees,  popular  festivals,  athletic  con- 
tests, excursions,  and  so  on.  We  are  also  informed 
as  to  the  makers  of  the  costumes,  the  footgear,  and 
the  weapons  borne  in  the  procession,  and  concerning 
extra  trains  run  from  the  various  cities  in  the  king- 
dom to  accommodate  the  crowds  of  sightseers  coming 
to  the  great  Ojytocht.  The  procession  passed  twice 
during  the  day  through  the  chief  streets  of  the  city. 
In  marching,  in  accuracy  of  costume,  in  reproduc- 
tion of  the  historic  spirit  and  enthusiasm  of  the 
paraders,  it  was  highly  creditable. 

It  was  good  to  see  the  University  alumni  enjoy 
themselves.  In  the  United  States  one  does  not 
necessarily  associate  malt  or  spirituous  liquors  with 
the  festivities  of  a  college  Commencement,  but  in 
Utrecht  beer  flowed  by  the  hogshead,  gin  by  the 
tierce,  and  wine  by  the  thousands  of  bottles.  Never- 
theless, literary  and  intellectual  exercises  were  much 
in  the  order  of  the  day,  and  there  were  hilarity 
and  gayety,  but  I  saw  no  drunkenness  among  the 
students.  At  night  it  was  almost  impossible  to  get 
through  the  illuminated  streets.  The  fun  in  the 
restaurants  and  among  the  groups  of  buxom  women 
and  jolly  men,  who  roped  themselves  together  hand 
in  hand,  and  went  swinging  and  singing  through 
the  streets,  was  rather  boisterous.  I  have  known 
Americans  to  reason,  from  this  excess  of  female 
merriment,  even  as  Eli  the  priest  did  concerning 
the  future  mother  of  Samuel,  and  with  equal  error 
of  judgment.  These  happy  girls  are  not  drunk, 
neither  are  they  lacking   in  virtue.     It   is  simply 


UTRECHT:  PROVINCE  AND  CITY  221 

their  way  in  Kermis  time.  Individual  lapses  there 
may  be,  but  the  fun  is  not  vicious,  though  very  con- 
tagious. On  occasion  of  revel  allowed  by  long  cus- 
tom, the  foreigner,  especially,  must  "  puU  gently  on 
a  weak  rope,"  and  not  too  harshly  judge  or  swiftly 
condemn. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

BY  THE   STORIED   RHINE 

My  further  rambles  in  Utrecht  province  may  be 
grouped  under  three  heads.  In  the  south,  Woerden, 
Oudewater,  Ijselstein,  Vreeswijk,  Wijk-bei-Duur- 
stede,  and  Rhenen  make  up  the  places  most  enjoyed 
along  the  Rhine  border.  In  the  west,  I  made  a 
journey  to  Amersfoort.  In  the  north,  I  acquainted 
myself  with  Breukelen  and  Nieuwersluis.  Of  these 
last  two  places  let  me  tell  first. 

I  must  needs  visit  Breukelen,  for  this  is  the  origi- 
nal after  which  the  great  city  in  Greater  New  York, 
on  Long  Island  and  opposite  the  borough  of  Man- 
hattan, takes  its  name.  Notwithstanding  its  modern 
spelling,  altered,  like  hundreds  of  Dutch- American 
names,  to  look  like  an  English  word,  Brooklyn  is 
the  namesake  of  the  Dutch  Breukelen.  From  this 
village  in  Utrecht  came  the  men  and  women  who 
on  June  16,  1637,  settled  the  American  "city  of 
churches."  As  in  New  Netherland  the  village  of 
Brooklyn  lay  between  New  Amsterdam  and  New 
Utrecht,  so  in  the  older  country  Breukelen  may  be 
found  about  haK  way  between  old  Amsterdam  and 
old  Utrecht,  being  nearer  to  the  latter  city.  As 
Brooklyn  lies  on  "the  Rhine  of  America,"  so  is 
Breukelen  on  at  least  one  of  the  Dutch  Rhines,  the 
Vecht. 


BY  THE  STORIED  RHINE  223 

In  Amsterdam,  I  knew  from  the  repetition  of  the 
word  "  door "  (through)  in  the  time-tables,  that 
Breukelen  was  a  place  at  which  important  trains 
rarely  stopped,  so  I  prepared  myself  to  see  a  village. 
Of  communities  of  this  name  there  are  no  fewer 
than  seven  in  the  Netherlands,  more  than  half  being 
in  Utrecht,  and  two  in  North  Brabant.  The  literal 
meaning  of  the  word,  if  not  exhausted  in  that  of 
"  marsh,"  or  "  morass,"  concerns  itself  with  "  what 
has  broken  forth,"  for  originally  the  term  referred 
to  a  stream  of  water  that  breaks  out.  Broek  is  the 
older  form  of  Brook. 

It  was  Saturday  afternoon,  June  29,  1895,  the 
time  when  the  roses  were  in  full  bloom,  that  I 
stepped  from  the  cars  to  the  brick  platform.  I 
walked  up  the  clinker  road  to  the  tree -embowered 
village,  which  seemed  to  be  everywhere  smiling  with 
flowers.  Off  the  Vecht  —  Breukelen's  East  River  — 
the  canals  were  clean  and  wide,  and  the  swimming 
fish  glittered  in  the  sunshine.  The  people  seemed 
very  polite,  and  there  were  many  tips  of  caps  to  the 
passing  Mynheer  from  America.  In  the  new  Roman 
Catholic  edifice,  amid  clouds  of  incense,  I  saw  the 
elevation  of  the  Host. 

There  are  a  few  old-time  structures,  as  some  of 
their  inscriptions  show.  In  the  pretty  town  haU  I 
noticed  the  arms,  which  consisted  of  a  shield  capped 
with  a  crown  and  quartered  with  lines  denoting  both 
ordinary  and  polder  land,  with  two  sets  of  St.  An- 
drew's crosses  ranged  in  three  lines.  Perhaps  these 
emblems  tell  the  story  of  the  town.  Near  the  village 
is  an  old-fashioned  sixteenth-century  mansion,  sur- 


224  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

rounded  by  a  moat.  It  is  the  former  dwelling  of 
the  great  Barneveldt.  House  and  home  were  sold 
with  his  estate. 

My  next  visit  on  the  same  road  was  to  Nieuwer- 
sluis,  or  the  New  Sluice,  which  enjoys  the  honor, 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  of  being  the  only  place  of 
this  name  in  the  Netherlands.  It  has  a  fort  built 
in  modern  style,  a  military  headquarters,  and  many 
pleasant  summer  residences  that  face  the  Vecht. 
The  great  and  honored  tribe  of  the  Van  Vechtens, 
not  unknown  in  American  history,  may  have  taken 
their  names  from  the  "  vechts"  of  geography,  one  in 
Over-Ijssel  and  the  other  in  Utrecht,  or,  with  equal 
probability,  from  belligerent  ancestry. 

Other  places  in  the  province  of  Utrecht  are 
Amersfoort,  where  Barneveldt  was  born,  and  Werk- 
hoven,  whence  sprang  the  Van  Braams,  famous  in 
Dutch  history,  one  of  whom  was  the  military  in- 
structor and  comrade-in-war  of  George  Washington. 
Some  towns  worth  visiting  lie  chiefly  along  the 
Rhine ;  one  of  these  is  Vreeswijk,  where  the  great 
ship  canal  from  Amsterdam  to  the  chief  river  of 
western  Europe  joins  the  waters  of  the  Zuyder  Zee. 
The  superb  works  of  engineering,  the  piers,  docks, 
enormous  sluices,  and  gates  recall  those  of  Katwijk. 
The  town,  like  most  of  those  modern  Dutch  commu- 
nities which  have  been  called  into  being  by  new  iron 
or  water  ways,  has  no  crown  upon  its  shield  to  tell 
of  imperial  favors,  ducal  glories,  privileges  of  coin- 
age, or  like  relics  of  the  past.  It  suggests  rather 
modern  achievement,  and  man's  mastery  of  the  earth 
with  pick  and  spade,  which  is  usually  symbolized  in 


BY  THE  STORIED  RHINE  225 

Dutch  heraldry  by  alternate  bands  of  lines  and  dots. 
There  are  four  other  places  of  the  name  of  Vrees- 
wijk.  Across  the  rushing  river  one  sees  the  town 
of  Vianen,  to  which  I  crossed  by  means  of  a  floating 
bridge  of  boats. 

One  need  not  be  an  architect  to  enjoy  architec- 
ture. This  nurse  and  mother  of  many  arts  tells  to 
the  attentive  tales  more  alluring  than  those  of  the 
fairies.  To  study  some  edifices  is  not  only  to  read 
sermons  in  stones,  but  to  see  the  thoughts,  the  aspi- 
rations, the  genius,  the  abilities  of  an  age  expressed 
in  stone.  Ages  and  nations  flower  in  structures 
for  divine  worship  or  civic  glory.  I  remember  with 
what  delight  my  friend,  Edward  A.  Freeman,  the 
historian,  used  to  dwell  upon  architecture  as  a  means 
of  expressing  and  recording  history,  which  he  called 
"  past  politics." 

What  is  true  of  those  nations  and  countries  which 
had  quarries  beneath  their  soil  is  eloquently  so  of 
these  Low  Countries,  which  have  had  either  to 
import  their  building  material,  economize  glacial 
debris,  or  dig,  bake,  and  burn  the  earth  into  brick, 
the  image  of  stone.  Around  the  towers,  especially, 
whether  dwarf,  torso,  or  cloud-touching,  cluster  ro- 
mance and  legend.  Upon  their  uprearing  there 
hangs  many  a  story  of  toil  and  aspiration. 

To  such  a  tower  I  was  attracted  by  hearing  of  its 
wonderful  beauty.  On  the  banks  of  the  Rhine,  in 
the  extreme  southeast  corner  of  Utrecht,  are  the 
town  and  commune  of  Rhenen,  which  takes  its  name 
from  the  river.  Jan  van  Arkel  in  1346  gave  Rhenen 
municipal  rights,  and  provided  it  with  moats  and 


226  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

walls.  Ruled  by  various  feudal  lords,  it  was  for 
a  while  the  dwelling-place  of  the  exiled  king  of 
Bohemia,  Friedrich  of  Pfalz,  who  here  built  a  pal- 
ace. Even  into  the  nineteenth  century  the  lordship 
belonged  to  the  bishopric  of  Utrecht.  Its  town 
arms,  a  crowned  shield  guarded  by  lions,  has  three 
towers,  each  with  a  dome  and  flag,  a  key  lying  across 
the  central  flagstaff.  Prettily  situated  on  the  bluff, 
Rhenen  contains  on  the  Heeren  Straat  a  number  of 
handsome  modern  houses,  for  here  is  a  lovely  sum- 
mer resort  for  people  from  the  Dutch  cities. 

The  famed  church  tower,  built  of  brick  and  stone, 
has  in  portions  been  freshly  faced,  and  there  are 
new  and  old  statues  in  the  niches.  Its  particular 
name  is  the  Kunera  tower,  after  the  daughter  of 
the  king  of  the  Orkney  Islands  off  Scotland,  who, 
with  Ursula  and  her  eleven  thousand  maidens,  made 
a  pilgrimage  to  Rome.  At  Cologne,  on  their  return, 
the  virgins,  while  disembarking,  were  attacked  by 
hordes  of  Hunnish  barbarians,  and  all  were  mur- 
dered. Only  Kunera  was  spared,  through  the  plead- 
ings of  a  King  Hymo,  after  whom  Himenberg  is 
named,  and  was  taken  to  his  castle.  There,  after 
certain  remarkable  adventures,  she  threw  herself 
down  from  the  Himenberg  and  was  killed,  —  like  the 
Winona  of  our  Indian  story.  Her  relics,  carefully 
preserved  at  her  last  resting-place,  are  shown  on  the 
28th  of  October. 

This  river  before  me  was  the  water  pathway  along 
which  Ursula  sailed.  Amid  the  beauty  of  the  Rhine 
valley  the  imagination  breeds  legends  as  prodigally 
and  naturally  as  the  earth  produces  flowers.     I  feel 


BY  THE  STORIED  RHINE  227 

this  summer  afternoon  like  summoning  forth  the 
vanished  presences,  and  hearing  again  the  story  of 
Ursula  and  her  virgins. 

Yet  as  time  devours  his  own  darlings,  so  mathe- 
matics, anatomy,  and  criticism  feed  on  legend.  The 
favorite  diet  of  dragons  in  all  aeons  and  climes  con- 
sists of  plump  virgins  fair  and  lovely,  but  usually 
the  beast  of  mythology  enjoyed  but  one  of  them  at 
a  time.  The  modern  critic  swallows  thousands  at  a 
gulp,  as  the  whale  a  whole  school  of  herring.  At 
Cologne,  in  St.  Ursula  Church,  they  preserve  the 
bones  of  this  myriad  plus  a  thousand  more  of  pilgrim 
virgins  slain  by  Huns.  Their  bones  were  dug  up, 
during  the  nine  years  from  A.  D.  1155  to  1162,  out 
of  a  field  which  had  been  revealed  in  dreams  as 
the  scene  of  massacre. 

Alas  for  the  legend  and  dream  !  Professor  Owen 
recognized  among  these  bones  those  of  men,  horses, 
monkeys,  and  other  animals.  Archaeologists  declare 
the  alleged  field  of  the  buried  virgins  to  have  been 
the  ancient  burying-ground  of  the  Roman  colony. 

Critical  readers  of  old  texts  declare  that  the 
legend  arose  from  a  misreading  of  record  in  the 
calendar  of  martyrs,  "  Ursula  et  UndecmiUa  W." 
Instead  of  "  Ursula  and  UndecmiUa,  Virgins,"  the 
myth-makers  read  "  Ursula  et  Undecim  millia 
W.," — Ursula  and  eleven  thousand  virgins.  Thus 
the  two  became  more  than  a  myriad.  The  improba- 
bilities and  anachronisms  of  the  story  were  early 
pointed  out. 

Evidently  a  mustard  seed  of  real  historical  inci- 
dent, sprouting  out  of  soil  enriched  with  Teutonic 


228  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

mythology,  has  become  a  mighty  tree,  in  whose 
branches  all  the  birds  of  fancy  in  Christianized 
plumage  have  lodged  and  sung.  Among  an  unlet- 
tered people,  whose  minds  were  saturated  with  the 
conceits  of  Freya,  Hulda,  and  Berchta,  such  a  legend 
as  that  of  Ursula  was  pretty  sure  to  grow  up.  Have 
we  not,  in  our  own  land,  the  legend  of  Lake  "  Hori- 
con  "  and  an  imaginary  tribe  of  the  "  Horicons  " 
growing,  at  the  touch  of  Cooper's  imagination,  out  of 
a  misprint  on  a  map,  of  Horicou  for  Iroquois  ?  Of 
the  five  or  six,  possibly  a  dozen  babies  slaughtered 
at  Bethlehem  by  Herod,  have  not  art  and  rhetoric 
made  thousands?  Have  not  the  twenty  or  thirty 
cubic  feet  of  Plymouth  Rock  already  become  in  poem 
and  oration  a  "  beetling  cliff,"  a  "  rock-bound  shore," 
a  mountain-like  mass  under  which  the  Pilgrims  could 
rest  or  "  nestk  "  ?  Let  Rhenen's  soaring  shaft  keep 
its  garland  of  story. 

I  saw  the  grand  old  tower  in  the  sunlight  and  late 
afternoon,  when  one  can  watch  the  line  between  the 
shadow  and  the  glory,  as  the  golden  light  moves  up 
from  the  earth  level  to  the  tip  of  the  spire.  Hun- 
dreds of  birds  had  made  their  nests  in  the  crotches 
of  the  pointed  arches  and  on  the  sides  of  project- 
ing points,  under  which  they  were  sheltered  from 
wind  and  rain.  These  homes  of  our  little  brothers 
of  the  air  were,  like  the  bricks,  made  of  mud,  but 
baked  only  in  the  sun.  Well  woven  and  mortared 
together,  they  had  apparently  a  roof  on,  with  a  hole 
in  the  top  for  exit.  Here  and  there  one  of  the  poor 
old  weather-pitted  saints  or  angels  had  a  hump  on 
his  shoulder.     Was  it  an  epaulette  of  honor,  or  the 


BY  THE   STORIED   RHINE  229 

swelling  of  disease  ?     No,  only  a  little  bird's  home. 
In  one  case,  a  nest  formed  a  crown  on  the  statue. 

The  evening  chimes  of  the  bells  rang  out  at  inter- 
vals that  were  none  too  short.  They  seemed  to 
translate  to  my  ears  Faber's  beautiful  hymn  of  wel- 
come to  "  the  pilgrims  of  the  night." 

"  Hark,  hark,  my  soul,  ang'elic  notes  are  swelling 
O'er  earth's  green  fields  and  ocean's  wave^beat  shore." 

The  river  Rhine  was  gay  with  rowboats  and  mov- 
ing craft  of  all  kinds.  As  I  rode  back  from  Rhenen 
to  Arnhem,  over  the  fertile  plains  of  the  Betuwe,  or 
"  the  better  land,"  I  saw  few  or  no  peasant  costumes. 
Cattle  were  plentiful  in  the  meadow.  The  river 
dikes  seem  competent  to  guarantee  protection  against 
dangers  by  water,  however  much  the  snow  may 
melt  on  the  mountains  of  Switzerland  or  Germany. 
It  is  a  rare  sight  in  the  Netherlands  to  see  church 
towers  in  silhouette  against  ranges  of  hills,  but  this 
I  saw  on  my  approach  to  Arnhem.  The  scene  was 
grandly  impressive,  appearing  in  the  twilight  like  a 
colossal  etching. 


NORTH  BRABANT 


CHAPTER  XXV 
IN  THE  OLD  GENERALITY:   NORTH  BRABANT 

North  Brabant,  like  Limburg,  is  one  of  a  pair 
of  twins.  In  each  case  one  sister  lives  on  the  Dutch, 
and  the  other  on  the  Belgian  side  of  the  frontier. 
Old  Brabant  was  a  little  country  by  itself,  about  the 
size  of  Connecticut.  It  consisted  of  a  great  plain, 
with  forests,  hills,  and  fens,  lying  between  the  Maas, 
Waal,  and  Lower  Scheldt  rivers.  Here  the  Celts 
and  Teutons  met  and  partially  mixed  together,  and 
here  dwelt  the  Franks. 

The  state  began  in  the  year  1106,  when  the  Em- 
peror Henry  V.  divided  the  ancient  Kingdom  or 
Duchy  of  Lorraine  into  two  parts,  the  upper  and 
the  lower.  Godfrey  the  Bearded  was  given  lower 
Lorraine,  and  took  the  title  of  Duke  of  Brabant  and 
Lorraine.  Henry  III.  shortened  his  title,  and  called 
himself  Duke  of  Brabant,  only.  In  the  Middle  Ages 
the  duchy  was  a  blooming  garden  of  industry,  not- 
withstanding that  so  much  of  it  was  then,  as  it  is 
now,  but  turf  or  heath. 

The  Brabant  standard  had  three  horizontal  stripes, 
red,  yellow,  and  black,  which  the  southern  Nether- 
lands, when  they  became  the  Kingdom  of  Belgium 
in  1830,  took  for  their  national  or  Belgian  flag. 
Now,  old  or  southern  Brabant,  divided,  like  ancient 


234  THE   AMERICAN   IN   HOLLAND 

Gaul  or  modern  Poland,  has  become,  as  to  languages, 
Dutch,  Flemish,  and  Walloon ;  and  as  to  political 
divisions,  the  provinces  of  North  Brabant,  Antwerp, 
and  Brabant.  On  the  duke's  arms  was  the  lion  of 
Brabant,  a  bushy  creature,  with  its  hair  apparently 
rubbed  the  wrong  way,  and  in  a  chronic  state  of 
rampancy,  with  puffed  tail,  especially  at  the  middle 
and  end,  and  with  tongue  hanging  out  as  though 
he  had  been  running  hard,  or  had  been  chased  by 
a  hunter.  Between  the  dukes  and  the  Dutch,  one 
thinks  of  our  own  Dutchess  County,  and  the  long 
war  of  words  over  its  orthography. 

Within  Brabant's  ancient  boundaries  were  the  rich 
cities  of  Brussels  and  Louvain,  as  well  as  the  group 
of  towns  lying  near  the  Maas  on  the  north.  For 
centuries  this  was  the  marching-ground  of  armies. 
During  the  troubles  between  Spain  and  Nether- 
lands, it  was  the  storm-centre.  When  the  Spanish 
Inquisition  was  "  re-introduced,"  as  the  Pope's  vicar 
said,  into  other  provinces,  it  was  shown  that  in 
Brabant  this  form  of  church  discipline  had  never 
existed.  While  other  cities  and  provinces  possessed 
their  charters,  edicts,  and  "  hand-fasts,"  by  which 
they  guarded  themselves  against  the  encroachment 
of  their  sovereigns,  Brabant  boasted  of  its  unique 
constitution,  the  "  Joyous  Entrance."  In  this  magna 
charta  it  was  provided  "  that  the  prince  of  the  land 
should  not  elevate  the  clerical  state  higher  than  of 
old  has  been  customary  and  by  former  princes  set- 
tled ;  unless  by  consent  of  the  other  estates,  the  no- 
bility of  the  city."  Other  articles  were  even  more 
protective  to  freedom,  while  one  clause  absolved  the 


THE  GENERALITY  :  NORTH  BRABANT   235 

people  from  obedience  to  the  prince  who  violated 
the  provisions  of  this  charter.  So  happily  did  the 
Brabanters  live  under  this  "  blithe  incoming  "  that 
mothers  in  spe  came  from  a  distance  into  Brabant 
in  order  to  have  their  children  born  on  the  soil  and 
thus  inherit  as  a  birthright  all  the  privileges  be- 
stowed under  the  flag  of  red,  gold,  and  black. 

Though  Philip  II.  of  Spain  twice  swore  to  be 
faithful  to  the  constitution  of  Brabant,  he  was  not 
a  man  to  care  for  his  plighted  word.  Pens  and  ink, 
seals  and  wax,  parchment  and  ribbon,  were  for  him 
only  implements  or  material  for  deception  and  per- 
jury. In  1560  he  multiplied  the  clericals  and  intro- 
duced the  inquisition,  with  all  its  peculiarly  Spanish 
atrocities  done  in  the  name  of  God.  Amid  the 
horror  and  dismay  of  the  people,  and  while  the 
nobles  vacillated  according  to  the  smile  or  frown 
of  the  king,  William  of  Orange  began  stout  and 
continued  resistance.  After  vainly  trying  to  base 
a  solid  edifice  of  order  and  freedom,  first  upon  the 
nobles  and  then  the  burghers,  he  built  immovably 
upon  the  people.  Although  a  Catholic,  he  hated 
the  idea  of  persecution,  and  denounced  bishops  who 
served  as  inquisitors,  tyrants  of  conscience,  and 
burners  of  bodies. 

Gradually  the  ancient  character  of  the  provin- 
cials, with  all  its  weaknesses,  asserted  itself.  Of 
Keltic  stock,  the  Brabanters  were  noted  for  their 
ardor  rather  than  their  endurance,  for  their  emo- 
tional rather  than  their  intellectual  life.  Disgrace- 
fully soon  they  were  in  line  with  the  "obedient 
provinces."      In  the  first  years  of  "  the  troubles," 


23G  THE   AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Brabant  was  held  almost  wholly  by  the  Spaniards, 
and  on  it  were  fought  many  battles. 

There  are  those  who  picture  the  great  William 
as  a  snow-white,  unsullied,  guileless  patriot  and 
martyr,  of  Alpine  purity  and  freedom  from  common 
passions.  Indeed,  one  gets  this  idea  from  Motley's 
clear-cut  portrait,  which  seems  to  have  no  shading, 
but  stands  out  in  white  light ;  but  Motley,  colorist 
in  words,  took  his  model  from  Rubens,  the  roman- 
cist,  rather  than  Rembrandt,  the  realist.  On  the 
contrary,  William  was  not  without  guile.  He 
fought  fire  with  fire.  In  the  eyes  of  the  unpreju- 
diced historian,  he  showed  decided  subtlety  and 
even  the  craft  of  the  politician  in  combating  his 
enemies  among  the  Belgian  nobles  and  the  Span- 
iards. It  is  certain  that  his  partisans  tumultuously 
invaded  the  hall  of  the  States  of  Brabant  and 
forced  them  to  elect  him  Ruward,  or  special  gov- 
ernor of  the  province  ;  and  this  high  office,  which 
had  always  been  the  stepping-stone  to  sovereignty, 
he  accepted  so  soon  as  it  was  evident  that  the  popu- 
lar feeling  demanded  it.  Nor  did  he  ever  deny 
what  was  charged  upon  him,  in  the  ban  of  Philip, 
that  he  had  secured  his  election  by  force  and  tu- 
mult. He  justified  himself  in  accepting  the  office 
in  order  to  nullify  the  plots  of  his  enemies.  Wil- 
liam's hostile  critics,  in  our  century,  even  hint  at 
his  subtle  agency  in  this  popular  uprising.  They 
also  find  his  hand  to  be  the  principal  one  in  the 
seizure  of  the  Duke  of  Aerschot,  the  head  of  the 
conspirators  against  him,  and  other  Catholic  lead- 
ers, —  an  action  which  excited  the  greatest  indigna- 


THE  GENERALITY:  NORTH  BRABANT   237 

tion  among  the  Roman  Catholics,  and  powerfully 
influenced,  more  for  evil  probably  than  for  good, 
the  cause  of  Netherland's  unity. 

In  the  formation  of  the  Dutch  union  of  states, 
which  made  a  new  Protestant  nation,  Brabant,  as  a 
whole,  did  not  join,  being  out  in  what  is  called  "  the 
generality."  Though  treated  as  people  living  in 
conquered  territory,  the  Brabanters  enjoyed  their 
ancient  local  rights  given  them  under  the  dukes. 
After  the  independent  nation  had  unfurled  the  flag 
of  open  revolt  and  had  issued  its  declaration  of 
independence,  in  1581  Brabant  became  the  battle- 
ground between  the  Spaniards  and  their  mercena- 
ries and  the  Dutch  patriots  and  their  allies.  Dur- 
ing the  Eighty  Years'  War  Brabant  contained  the 
first  or  southern  line  as  defense  of  the  Republic 
against  the  Spaniards.  The  events  of  the  sieges  of 
Grave,  Ravenstein,  Hertogenbosch,  Geertruidenberg, 
Bergen-op-Zoom,  Breda,  and  Tilburg  took  place  on 
Brabant's  soil.  These  filled  the  minds  of  the  peo- 
ple in  both  Holland  and  England,  caused  the  writ- 
ing of  many  books,  the  shedding  of  rivulets  of  ink, 
besides  rivers  of  blood,  and  gave  the  world  new 
lessons  in  the  art  of  war. 

As  the  English  called  the  whole  federal  Repub- 
lic, made  up  of  the  United  States  of  Netherlands, 
"  Holland,"  so  they  usually  spoke  and  wrote  of  the 
Belgian  provinces  or  Spanish  Netherlands  as  "  Flan- 
ders." Here  in  Brabant  ("  Flanders ")  marched, 
camped,  and  fought  those  military  Englishmen  who 
afterwards  settled  in  America  or  led  the  army  of 
Parliament  against  King  Charles  the  Traitor.     To 


238  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

the  Spaniards  the  Maas  River  was  a  great  circle 
of  protection  against  the  militant  United  States,  a 
great  natural  moat  guarding  their  domain.  Never- 
theless, despite  the  magnificent  advantages  which 
the  Spaniards  possessed  at  the  beginning,  in  money, 
in  the  quality  and  numbers  of  their  soldiers,  in  the 
advantage  of  long  preparation  and  the  initiative  of 
offense,  Brabant  was  finally  won  to  the  patriot  cause. 
Science  and  valor  decided  the  long  struggle,  and  the 
strategic  points  were  occupied  by  republican  gar- 
risons. Yet  North  Brabant  remained  part  of  the 
Spanish  and  Austrian  Netherlands  until  1722.  Then 
it  came  under  control  of  the  Elector  Palatine,  not 
reverting  to  Holland  until  1801. 

Under  the  soldering-irons  of  diplomacy  at  the 
Congress  of  Vienna  in  1815,  the  two  alien  king- 
doms, one  controlled  by  the  school  and  the  other 
by  the  priest,  were  conjoined.  Dutch  and  Belgian 
Brabant  became  once  more  a  unity.  In  1830  tho 
Belgians  drew  the  sword  of  separation,  and  Brabant 
was  once  more  divided.  The  southern  boundary  of 
Dutch  or  North  Brabant  was  drawn  from  the 
Scheldt  River  westward,  in  a  most  irregular  and 
meandering  manner.  So  indeed  it  seems  upon  the 
map,  though  in  reality  it  follows  the  natural  lines  of 
demarcation  as  furnished  by  the  convenient  features 
of  land  and  water,  until  at  a  point  on  the  western 
frontier  of  Limburg  it  ceases.  The  province  is  thus 
bounded  by  the  Maas  River,  with  Gelderland  and 
South  Holland  on  the  north,  Limburg  on  the  east, 
Belgium  on  the  south,  and  Zealand  on  the  west.  Its 
broad  plains  are  well  traversed   by  iron  roads,  and 


THE  GENERALITY  :  NORTH  BRABANT       239 

the  great  steam  highway  from  Germany  and  the 
northern  states  passes  through  it. 

In  area  North  Brabant  is  exactly  the  size  of  Dela- 
ware, covering  1960  square  miles,  and  containing 
half  a  million  people.  Politically,  it  reminds  one  of 
a  sentimental  astronomer's  map,  with  all  sorts  of 
picturesque  animals  and  mythical  heroes  and  their 
belongings  interlaced  and  coiled  up  upon  its  face ; 
or  a  palimpsest,  on  which  are  the  writings  of  many 
generations  in  various  strata.  There  are  all  sorts 
of  old  marquisates,  baronies,  lordships,  markgraaf- 
schaps,  beside  all  kinds  of  subdivisions  and  dis- 
tricts, whose  names  linger  in  the  old  law  books  and 
on  the  peasants'  lips,  though  unknown  to  the  tour- 
ists and  possibly  to  many  lawyers  of  to-day.  These 
glacier  scratches  of  history,  visible  only  to  the 
archaeologist,  delight  the  student  rambler  who  looks 
with  clear  vision  upon  the  past,  as  it  moves  in  pro- 
cession with  all  its  varied  figures  over  the  landscape. 

At  first  view  Brabant  seems  dry  as  well  as  flat. 
The  unclean  spirit  that  delighted  in  "  waterless 
places  "  might  enjoy  touring  here.  In  reality,  how- 
ever, the  province  is  well  swept  and  garnished  by 
flowing  streams.  To  say  nothing  of  the  natural 
streams  which  the  Dutch  call  "  riviertjes,"  or  little 
rivers,  the  Aa,  Dommel,  Dieze,  Dintel,  Mark,  etc., 
one  sees  also  plenty  of  water-channels  made  by  the 
spade.  On  the  northeast  and  north  is  the  ever -flow- 
ing Maas,  which  on  nearing  the  sea  becomes  the 
Hollandish  Deep  and  the  Volkrak.  On  the  west, 
dividing  Brabant  from  Zealand  Archipelago,  are  the 
Scheldt  waters. 


240  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

It  is  within  the  limits  of  Brabant  that  the  vast 
collection  of  islands  and  streams,  resembling  a  mass 
of  intestines,  called  the  Biesbosch,  or  forest  of 
reeds,  is  found.  Down  in  hopeless  and  unfathomed 
ooze  lie  the  wrecks  of  over  seventy  villages  and 
towns,  which  with  their  one  hundred  thousand  in- 
habitants were  overwhelmed  in  the  great  flood  of 
1421.  Despite  its  vast  areas  of  heath  and  fen,  one 
of  these,  the  Peel,  being  twenty  miles  long,  there  is 
many  a  tuft  of  fertility,  and  the  Brabanters  are 
abundantly  fed  from  their  own  fields  and  pastures. 

Personally,  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  Brabant 
soil  by  entering  from  three  different  points  of  the 
compass,  at  three  different  times,  separated  years 
apart.     Of  my  adventures  I  now  proceed  to  tell. 

Bergen-op-Zoom  is  at  the  western  edge.  It  is  the 
gateway  facing  Zealand.  I  found  the  old  city,  on 
both  of  my  visits,  to  be  more  interesting  in  the 
past  than  in  the  present,  and  in  history  than  in  fact. 
During  the  Dutch  Kevolutionary  War,  when  it  was 
garrisoned  by  a  strong  English  and  Dutch  force, 
this  town  was  the  military  key,  not  only  to  eastern 
Brabant,  but  also  to  Tholen  and  South  Beveland, 
two  of  the  best  islands  of  Zealand.  Then  it  was 
handsomely  fortified  with  strong  walls  and  mighty 
towers  and  gateways.  One  of  the  latter,  called  the 
old  gate,  still  stands  with  its  massive  round  and 
pointed  roofs.  It  opens  on  the  Haven,  where  of  old 
were  extra  fortifications.  The  moats  round  the  city 
are  supplied  by  water  from  the  Scheldt,  for  the  name 
Bergen-op-Zoom  refers  to  something  dry,  and  not 
to  the  Zoom  "  River  "  of  the  orator's  imagination. 


THE  GENERALITY  :  NORTH  BRABANT   241 

Zoom  meant  a  border  or  bank.  To-day  it  signifies 
a  hem,  or  the  overlapping  of  ship's  boards  or  shin- 
gles. The  rising  ground,  hardly  more  than  a  swell 
amid  morasses,  gave  its  name  to  the  city,  which 
means  the  hill  on  the  edge  or  border.  Many  a 
Dutchman's  summer  home  has  for  its  motto  "  Lust 
in  rust "  (Pleasure  in  repose),  or  vice  versa.  Here 
at  Bergen-op-Zoom  we  see  a  Zoomlust,  a  Zoomrust, 
and  a  Zoomvelt. 

Where  the  Scheldt  let  its  flood  into  the  Haven  was 
a  Watergate,  regulating  the  supply,  with  a  strong 
fort  on  either  side  of  it,  while  all  around  was  and  is 
the  "  drowned  land,"  which  had  become  so  in  a  great 
storm  and  inundation  in  the  sixteenth  century.  With 
twenty  thousand  men,  the  Duke  of  Parma,  aided  by 
the  English  traitor  Stanley,  laid  siege  to  the  town  in 
the  autumn  of  1588.  After  two  months  of  toil  and 
loss  the  siege  was  raised,  and  Parma  returned  to 
Brussels.  Later,  the  great  Spanish  engineer,  Spi- 
nola,  came  here  to  try  the  fortune  of  war,  but  had 
to  leave  in  chagrin  when  Maurice  made  that  trium- 
phant entrance  into  the  town  which  has  been  repeat- 
edly celebrated  in  prose,  in  poetry,  on  the  stage,  and 
by  the  students'  costume  processions  at  Jjejden  and 
elsewhere.  The  event  made  a  deep  impression  upon 
the  Dutch  mind.  Maurice  was  their  young  war- 
eagle.  In  later  days  Coehorn  reconstructed  the  for- 
tifications, which,  however,  could  not  keep  back  the 
French  in  1672,  when  they  overran  most  of  the  coun- 
try.    The  walls  were  leveled  in  1867. 

Now  all  is  so  changed  that  one  could  hardly  re- 
cognize the  town  through  which  Leicester  strutted, 


242  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

and  beyond  the  portcullis  of  which  Sir  Francis  Vere 
waited  to  entrap  the  Spaniards.  Superbly  built 
dikes  keep  out  the  water.  The  one  remaining  city 
gate  stands  like  a  pelican  in  the  wilderness.  The 
bastions,  which  once  so  delighted  the  engineer's  eye 
and  were  so  often  reproduced  by  diagram  in  the  old 
histories,  are  as  furrows  in  the  sea.  The  monastic- 
looking  old  Hof ,  or  palace  of  the  Marquis,  still  looms 
up  with  its  courtyard  and  its  great  archway,  carved 
pillars,  and  flower  gardens.  These  Sir  Philip  Sid- 
ney wished  to  occupy,  though  he  resigned  the  de- 
sired governorship  to  Lord  Willoughby.  Here  and 
in  the  great  monastery  of  the  Minim,  on  the  north 
side  of  the  town,  were  probably  the  quarters  of  the 
English  officers. 

An  English  Presbyterian  church  existed  a  long 
while  in  this  town.  Where  are  its  records  ?  To-day, 
as  I  walk  down  streets  named  "  English,"  "  Dear 
Lady,"  "  High,"  and  "  Forest,"  I  find  this  town  of 
ten  thousand  people  insufferably  dull.  Even  the 
great  market  square,  with  its  colossal  but  still  unfin- 
ished church  of  St.  Lambert  and  its  massive  towers, 
whence  of  old  the  watchers  could  look  into  the  be- 
leaguering camps,  fails  to  interest  me ;  neither  do 
the  fish  and  the  corn  markets,  which  with  their  open 
spaces  are  as  lungs  to  the  body  municipal. 

Rambling  round  the  town's  edges,  I  find  the  old 
bastions  still  keep  their  curves  and  angles  on  the 
water  front.  In  front  of  the  city,  along  the  banks 
of  the  Scheldt,  are  those  enormous  oyster-beds  which 
are  expected  to  yield  luscious  bivalves  enough  to 
supply  all  Great  Britain,  as  well  as  the  Netherlands. 


THE  GENERALITY :  NORTH  BRABANT   243 

I  read  the  glowing  advertisements  in  the  English 
papers  concerning  the  rosy  prospects  of  these  breed- 
ing-grounds. The  company  formed  for  the  multipli- 
cation of  the  Dutch  "  Saddle  Kocks  "  was  under  the 
presidency  of  a  Dutch  gentleman,  Dr.  Pompe  van 
Meerdervoort.  Whether  he  will  make  his  fortune, 
or  lose  all  his  guilders,  it  is  not  for  me  to  prophesy. 
Yet  even  should  failure  come,  he  has  already  won 
honorable  fame  in  Japan  as  the  trainer  of  scores  of 
Japanese  physicians  and  surgeons.  As  the  Vesalius 
of  Japan,  who  laid  the  foundation  of  medical  science 
in  the  Mikado's  empire  by  the  introduction  of  scien- 
tific surgery  and  the  dissection  of  cadavers,  he  will 
ever  deserve  lasting  honor.  I  have  found  his  book, 
"  Five  Years  in  Japan,  1857-1863,"  a  modest  story 
interestingly  told. 

In  North  Brabant,  ^s  elsewhere  in  the  Netherlands, 
much  heath  means  much  turf.  In  other  provinces, 
like  Drenthe  and  Over-Ijssel,  though  fertile  soil  be 
lacking,  the  Dutchman  cuts  his  fuel  off*  the  face  of 
the  land.  In  the  land  where  the  stove  was  invented, 
you  may  be  sure  that  these  folk  who  wear  wool  all  the 
year  round  keep  warm  in  winter,  yet  not  by  "  stove 
coal."  The  English  and  Belgians  sell  the  Dutchman 
their  anthracite  to  supply  his  gas,  engines,  machine- 
shops,  and  electric  lights.  In  the  cities  coke  is  much 
employed,  but  in  vil^ge  and  metropolis  turf  is  the 
standard  fuel.  In  the  enormous  inland  commerce 
and  navigation  so  noticeable  to  the  traveler,  this  fuel 
plays  a  prominent  part  as  freight.  It  is  heaped  up 
on  decks  to  the  height  of  ten  or  fifteen  feet  above 
the  gunwale.    It  is  stacked  on  the  heaths  house  high. 


244  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

From  along  the  river  fronts  in  the  distributing  cen- 
tres, it  is,  by  means  of  the  omnipresent  pushcart, 
supplied  to  hearth,  furnace,  foot-stove,  porcelain 
heater,  and  cooking-range. 

One  can  scarcely  get  an  idea  of  the  fascinations  of 
the  turf  moors  to  artists  and  lovers  of  color  until 
he  has  seen  them  in  all  lights.  These  dried-up  bogs, 
these  seas  of  sand,  embroidered  with  all  tints  of  the 
heather-flowers  of  to-day  and  dyed  with  the  mould 
of  aeons,  reveal  fresh  wonders  to  the  eye  that  revels 
in  the  splendors  of  nature's  spectrum.  It  is  no  won- 
der that  both  the  wild  flower  of  the  moor  and  the 
"  briquettes  "  of  turf  as  cut  by  the  spade  reappear 
liberally  and  with  loving  appreciation  in  Dutch  art, 
heraldry,  poetry,  and  folk-lore. 

Whole  colonies  of  American,  French,  and  German 
artists  traverse  or  dwell  in  rural  Netherland  during 
the  summer  months  to  study  the  scenery  of  this  flat 
land.  They  live  face  to  face  with  nature  and  the 
common  folk.  In  winter  the  fascinations  of  the 
rich  galleries  draw  the  art  students  to  the  cities,  and 
keep  them  busy  in  mastering  the  secrets  of  the  lords 
of  art.  Then  the  heaths,  wolds,  and  cottages  are 
deserted  by  the  alien.  It  is  pleasant  for  the  student 
traveler  to  meet  in  unexpected  places  in  Holland  his 
fellow  countrymen  and  women.  Barendrecht,  near 
Rotterdam,  and  Laren,  near  Amsterdam,  are  the 
popular  centres  of  art  work. 


LTMBURG 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  UPPER  MAA8 

Having  been  at  the  extreme  north  of  the  Dutch 
kingdom  and  made  tangent  of  its  farthest  points 
on  its  frontiers  facing  sunrise  and  sunset,  I  pur- 
posed also  to  touch  and  cross  its  southern  boundary. 
Leaving  the  canals,  dikes,  curious  headgear,  and 
windmills  of  Batavia  and  entering  Limburg,  one  at 
first  hardly  believes  himself  still  in  Nederland.  Both 
landscape,  costumes,  customs,  and  religion  are  dif- 
ferent. One  wonders  almost  why  Limburg  is  a  part 
of  the  Netherlands. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  student  realizes  all  the 
more  keenly  the  thoroughness  of  the  union  between 
the  provinces  which  compose  that  Dutch  Kingdom 
which  fulfills  the  hopes  of  the  Republic.  In  the 
old  days  of  federal  government,  of  the  union  and 
"Lands  of  the  Generality,"  there  was  often  weak 
federalism,  with  dangerous  and  divisive  differences. 
One  state  in  the  union  was  ultra  -  democratic,  like 
Friesland ;  another  aristocratic,  like  Holland ;  one 
maritime  and  ultra-protestant,  like  Zeeland  ;  another 
inland  and  ultra-catholic,  like  Groningen ;  one  very 
poor,  like  Drenthe  ;  another  rich,  like  Utrecht,  In- 
deed, it  is  remarkable  that  they  held  and  had  held 
together  so  well,  both  under  the  Republic  and  in  this 


248  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

century  under  the  monarchy,  when  the  states  became 
provinces. 

Limburg  is  only  politically  Dutch.  The  people 
are  of  mixed  blood.  A  large  number  talk  French, 
and  the  money  used  is  mostly  German.  Despite  the 
fact  that  Maastricht  was  as  bravely  defended  against 
the  Spaniards  as  was  Haarlem  or  Alkmaar,  one  does 
not  usually  account  the  Limburgers  inheritors  of  the 
glorious  traditions  of  the  old  Eighty  Years'  War  for 
freedom.  One  portion  of  the  province  cast  in  its  lot 
with  the  Spanish  Netherlands,  and  even  to  this  day 
there  is  a  Dutch  and  a  Belgian  Limburg.  The  an- 
cient name  is  honored  and  kept,  even  when  the  land 
is  parted  in  the  middle  like  Brabant,  or  our  own 
Carolina,  Virginia,  and  Dakota.  In  the  war  of  1830 
between  Holland  and  Belgium,  which  sundered  once 
more  the  artificially  united  Netherlands  of  Spanish 
and  of  Teutonic  traditions,  the  Dutch  were  able  to 
hold  the  valley  of  the  Maas. 

That  is  what  Dutch  Limburg  is  to-day,  —  the  re- 
gion of  the  valley  of  the  Maas.  For  strategic  pur- 
poses it  is  as  indispensable  for  the  Dutch  to  say  "  I 
will  maintain  "  as  it  is  for  the  American  Union  to 
hold  the  Mississippi  from  source  to  mouth.  Since 
the  Maas  has  had  so  much  to  do  with  the  making  of 
their  country,  the  Dutch  felt  it  to  be  a  necessity  of 
both  geography  and  of  politics  to  keep  Limburg 
within  their  two  famous  states,  that  of  the  water 
and  of  the  sceptre,  and  they  have  done  it. 

Limburg  is  a  curiously  shaped  province,  long  and 
irregularly  narrow.  Looked  at  on  the  map  from 
the  south,  it  resembles   that  curious  creature,  the 


THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  UPPER  MAAS        249 

sea-horse,  its  tail  wagging  into  Gelderland,  its  head 
lying  between  Maastricht  and  Aken.  From  the 
north  it  begins  at  a  point  a  little  above  where  the 
Waal  makes  its  great  bend  eastward  to  pour  its 
waters  into  the  North  Sea  and  form  the  liquid 
boundary  between  Zealand,  which  is  the  delta  of  the 
Scheldt,  and  the  South  Holland  islands,  which  are 
the  deltas  of  the  Maas  and  the  Waal.  The  tip  of 
the  northern  boundary  touches  the  railway  line  south 
of  Nijmegen  and  a  little  east  of  Broesbeek. 

By  the  iron  road,  on  July  20, 1895,  I  entered  the 
province  which  Ijegins  its  line  of  northern  villages 
with  a  name  of  sinister  memory  to  a  Dutchman. 
The  railway  passes  through  a  deep  cut  amid  sand 
and  gravel  banks.  The  heaths,  scarcely  more  than 
stained  with  vegetation,  spread  out  on  either  side. 
It  is  the  Mookerheide  of  black  memory.  When  a 
Dutchman  would  utter  a  malediction,  with  the  intent 
of  landing  his  devoted  object  into  some  vile  limbo, 
he  mentally  dumps  him  into  the  Mookerheide  ("  Ik 
won  dat  hij  op  de  Mookerhei  zat").  Here  on  this 
barren  prairie  is  a  spot  as  sad  to  the  Hollander  as  is 
the  desolate  moor  of  Culloden  to  a  Jacobite  High- 
lander, or  Bull  Kun  to  a  loyal  American. 

On  the  14th  of  April,  1574,  Count  Lodewijk 
(Louis),  the  brother  of  the  great  William  and  the 
mirror  of  knightly  chivalry,  with  his  horsemen  and 
infantry  faced  the  Spanish  cavalry,  pikemen,  and 
musketeers.  The  battle  soon  raged  around  the 
trenches  of  the  village  of  Mook,  where  to-day  the 
railway  train  stops  for  a  few  minutes.  The  Span- 
ish infantry,  according  to  custom,  dropped  on  their 


250  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

knees  before  the  assault,  said  a  Pater  Noster  and 
an  Ave  Maria,  and  then  rushed  in  mass  to  the 
attack.  The  Dutch  patriots  were  beaten  back  into 
retreat.  Count  Louis,  whom  tradition  represents 
as  a  handsome  person,  arrayed  in  black  cloth  and 
armor  banded  with  gold,  sought  to  retrieve  the  day. 
Gallantly  he  charged  with  his  squadrons.  The 
ranks  of  the  Spanish  cavalry  were  broken,  and  they 
fled  in  all  directions ;  but  while  the  patriot  shot-men 
were  loading  their  carbines  in  retirement,  they  were 
attacked  when  still  unready,  and  the  battle  was  lost. 
Before  all  hope  had  fled,  the  brothers,  Counts  Louis 
and  Henry,  rallied  a  little  band  of  horsemen  and 
charged  again.     "  Into  the  jaws  of  hell "  they  rode. 

Nothing  more  was  ever  seen  of  the  two  heroes. 
As  completely  as  if  they  had  leaped  into  a  volcano 
crater,  did  they  disappear.  Whether  drowned  in 
the  river,  burned  in  the  fire,  or  trampled  in  the 
moor-sand  under  the  horse-hoofs,  nobody  knows. 
This  calamity,  following  so  soon  after  the  awful 
slaughter  at  Jemmingen  in  the  north,  brought  dis- 
couragement to  the  patriots,  grief  to  the  great-souled 
William,  and  abiding  sorrow  to  the  noble  mother, 
Juliana  of  Stolberg,  then  the  loser  of  three  sons  on 
Netherlands'  bloody  soil.  No  wonder  that  for  two 
centuries  the  very  name  of  this  death-heath  served 
as  a  malediction.  To  send  a  man  to  Mookerheide 
meant  to  be  rid  of  him  in  oblivion. 

Unmarked  by  monument  or  by  celebration,  like 
desolate  CuUoden,  the  moor  remained  until  over 
three  centuries  had  passed  by,  when  on  April  14, 
1891,  the  patriotic  and  learned  scholars  and  histori- 


THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  UPPER  MAAS       251 

ans  from  afar  and  people  of  the  region  gathered 
to  hear  an  oration  by  the  accomplished  historian, 
Professor  Doctor  P.  J.  Blok,  whose  monograph  on 
Lodewijk  van  Nassau  (of  1889)  I  have  before  me 
as  I  write.  The  national  interest  awakened  by  the 
tercentenary  celebrations  at  Briel  and  Heiligerlee, 
and  by  the  studies  of  Dr.  Blok,  culminated  in  the 
erection,  in  the  Reformed  church  at  Heumen,  near 
the  historic  heath,  of  a  memorial  to  the  two  princely 
brothers. 

Of  Caen  stone,  in  the  Renaissance  style,  is  this 
appropriate  monument ;  the  inscriptions  being,  as 
was  Count  Louis's  armor,  gold  on  black  (marble). 
The  main  figure  in  the  centre  is  that  of  History, 
with  Courage,  Truth,  and  Loyalty  on  the  sides. 
Flanking  the  arms  of  Nassau  are  lions.  The  motto, 
directly  under  the  angelic  figure  on  the  top,  reads 
"  Plutot  mort  que  vaincu,  genereux  sang  de  Nassau." 
At  the  base  is  an  inscription  telling  that  Lodewijk 
and  Hendrik  van  Nassau  died  "  for  the  freedom  of 
the  Fatherland." 

Riding  through  the  field,  which  is  in  modern  times 
cut  by  the  railway,  we  are  deeply  impressed  with 
the  awful  contrast  between  the  worthlessness  of  the 
soil  here  and  the  richness  of  the  precious  blood 
("genereux  sang  de  Nassau")  which  for  a  little 
while  fertilized  it,  "  deepening,"  not  "  pansies  "  but 
only  heather,  "  for  a  year  or  two."  As  we  shoot  past 
the  station  into  more  level  and  fertile  land,  the  smil- 
ing grain-fields  on  the  right  give  further  contrast  to 
the  heath  which  rolls  away  to  the  left.  Soon  we 
cross  on  the  noble  bridge,  a  triumph  of  science  and 


252  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

engineering  skill,  over  the  Maas  River.  Through  al- 
ternating fertility  and  barrenness,  amid  purple  heaths 
and  drifted  sand,  rye  harvests  and  wild  flowers, 
through  pine  barrens  and  great  heaps  of  stripped 
pine  poles,  which  show  by  their  slenderuess  the  pov- 
erty of  the  soil,  we  here  and  there  discern  villages 
with  church  spires  on  which  the  cross  flashes  with 
frequency,  some  of  them  seen  from  across  vast  sheets 
of  purple  heather. 

We  are  reaching  the  lands  of  the  crucifix.  The 
picturesque  costumes  are  no  more.  The  women  have 
bare  heads,  or  lace  caps  with  long  flaps.  Instead  of 
pyramid  of  gold  wire,  ball,  or  mirror,  with  pendants 
fronting  the  ears,  are  plenty  of  gold  chains  and  neck- 
laces, with  the  Roman  symbols  of  religion.  Occa- 
sionally we  see  a  fat  shaveling,  roped  around  the 
middle,  looking  as  if  he  had  just  stepped  out  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  Most  of  the  language  we  hear  spo- 
ken, as  we  stop  at  the  stations,  is  Dutch.  Indeed, 
Dutch  is  the  vernacular  in  four  of  the  Belgian  pro- 
vinces, and  the  burgomaster  of  Antwerp  speaks  Piatt 
Deutsch,  —  the  language  of  Erasmus,  Yondel,  Rem- 
brant,  Bilderdijk,  Boerhave,  and  Kuenen. 

This  province  is  remarkable  for  the  large  niunber 
of  small  village  communities,  so  common  in  Nether- 
land.  In  1883  there  were  more  than  thirty-two 
which  had  less  than  eight  hundred  souls.  Though 
Utrecht  stands  next  to  Limburg,  she  has  but  six- 
teen villages  so  small.  In  Drenthe  and  Groningen 
there  are,  strictly  speaking,  none,  all  the  settlements 
being  large  towns. 

This  land  is  the  highest  in  the  kingdom,  and  be- 


THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  UPPER  MAAS        253 

tween  its  hills  the  Maas,  flowing  out  from  the  Haute 
Marne  district  in  France,  slides  down  to  the  sea. 
The  river  takes  its  name  from  the  village  Meuse. 
In  the  two  hundred  leagues  of  its  flow,  it  drains 
nineteen  thousand  square  miles,  furnishing  life-blood 
more  to  Holland  than  to  France,  —  a  fact  which  pro- 
vided Napoleon,  who  pocketed  kingdoms  as  easily 
as  pictures  or  statues,  with  his  plea  that  Holland 
ought  to  belong  to  France  because  so  largely  a  pro- 
duct of  the  French  rivers. 

We  stop  off  first  at  Venlo,  which,  like  the  far  bet- 
ter-known Waterloo,  or  Het  Loo,  has  a  name  whose 
final  syllable  means  a  grove  or  wood.  There  are 
two  southern  places  having  in  their  name  Ven,  which 
is  only  the  southern  form  of  the  Dutch  "  veen,"  or 
turf.  On  the  map  we  find  Hohe-Yenn,  —  it  would 
be  Hoogeveen  in  the  far  north,  —  not  very  far  from 
which  is  Stolberg,  whence  Juliana,  the  mother  of 
William  the  Silent,  took  her  family  name.  Lou- 
vain  (Loo-veen)  is  the  place  of  the  famous  univer- 
sity in  which  the  spiteful  enemies  of  Erasmus  dwelt, 
and  where  the  great  William's  son  was  partly  edu- 
cated and  thence  spirited  off  to  Spain  and  made  a 
Jesuit.  Venlo  lies  between  the  railway  and  the 
river.  Its  story  of  inclosures  and  defense  is  that  of 
so  many  other  cities  on  this  soil,  so  long  the  cock-pit 
of  Europe.  The  Indians  would  have  called  it  Ken- 
tucky, "the  dark  and  bloody  ground."  Many  are 
the  sieges  which  Venlo  has  sustained  from  the  times 
of  the  gladius  and  the  catapult  to  those  of  smooth- 
bore and  flint-lock.  The  walls  have  been  repeatedly 
raised  and  razed.     In  modern  Europe  the  locomo- 


254  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

tive  is  the  chief  battering-ram,  and  railway  neces- 
sities are  the  levelers  of  old  mediaeval  masonry. 
Venlo  is  now  stripped  of  her  old  armor. 

Walking  down  to  the  river-side  and  on  the  Maas 
Kade,  I  find  considerable  portions  of  the  old  walls 
still  embanking  the  river  and  serving  on  their  tops 
for  promenades.  From  portions  of  the  ancient  gate 
and  bastions  the  grass  waves,  with  here  and  there  a 
pretty  flower  blooming,  —  the  crocus  of  peace  edg- 
ing the  glaciers  of  war.  The  marketplace  is  full 
of  buying,  selling,  and  chaffering  people,  but  the 
dull  clothing  of  the  peasantry  is  unrelieved  by  pic- 
turesque costumes.  I  notice  no  bright  variety  as  in 
the  northern  Dutch  towns.  The  dogs  seem  to  be 
worked  harder  than  in  Rhineland.  This  is  a  region 
of  rye  and  potatoes.  In  a  shop  window  I  find  a 
Dutch  cook-book  —  one  among  many,  showing  the 
popularity  of  this  kind  of  literature  —  which  gives 
three  hundred  receipts  for  making  these  apples  of 
the  earth  palatable.  On  the  balustrade  of  the  town 
hall  and  weigh  house,  which  we  make  our  coign  of 
vantage  to  look  down  on  the  scene,  are  the  city  arms, 
the  upper  half  of  a  lion,  and  below  him  an  anchor. 
Fine  rain  sifts  down  through  the  air,  but  no  one 
minds  it,  and  the  hum  goes  on.  In  the  busy  market 
scene  are  dresses  both  dark  and  light,  with  plenty  of 
jewelry  in  the  form  of  crosses  and  gorgets  of  gold. 
There  are  many  quaint  old  houses  dating  from  the 
Spanish  time,  clamped  together  with  iron  bands  and 
gayly  painted.  The  shops  exhibit  plentifully  the 
pictures  of  Wilhelmina,  who  has  but  recently  visited 
this  province,  much  to  the  joy  of  her  loyal  subjects. 


THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  UPPER  MAAS        255 

From  the  realistic  posters  on  the  walls,  I  find  what 
was  the  chief  attraction  of  the  Kermis,  which  took 
place  on  Sunday,  June  23.  This  was  none  other  than 
"  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin"  (De  Negerhut  van  oom  Tom). 
The  drama  was  in  seven  acts.  Besides  the  black 
man  and  little  Eva,  there  were  the  old  slave-block, 
the  auction,  the  whip,  the  overseer,  the  bloodhounds, 
and  the  cotton-fields.  All  this  is  ancient  history  in 
America,  but  the  young  Limburgers  doubtless  im- 
agine that  slavery  still  exists.  Are  true  types  in 
literature  as  persistent  as  those  of  the  imagination  ? 
It  will  take  a  long  time  for  Cooper's  Indians  and 
Harriet  Beecher  Stowe's  negroes  and  hounds  to  die 
out  of  the  European  mind.  In  our  day  and  genera- 
tion, slavery  smells  no  sweeter  in  our  nostrils  than 
does  the  cheese  of  this  Belgian  province  of  Limburg, 
so  soft  and  so  strong. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

MAASTRICHT   AND   ROERMOND 

I  RIDE  west  to  Maastricht,  or  the  ford  of  the 
Maas.  Look  on  the  map  of  the  Netherlands  and  you 
will  see  many  names  ending  in  "  trecht "  or  "  tricht," 
which  is  the  local  corruption  of  the  old  Latin  "  tra- 
jectum,"  or  ford.  The  river  valley  is  walled  in  on 
either  side  with  limestone  hills.  The  scenery  here 
contrasts  sharply  with  that  north  of  the  Maas.  The 
French  call  this  river  the  Meuse,  after  the  village 
of  its  cradle.  I  pass  by  Roermond,  that  is,  the  mouth 
of  the  Roer  River,  to  which  city  I  shall  return  for 
a  Sunday's  stay. 

The  car  in  which  I  ride  has  the  sign  "  Niet  rooken  " 
(No  smoking),  but  the  prohibition  is  defied  by  four 
nations  and  neutralized  in  French,  German,  English, 
and  Dutch.  Personally,  I  enjoy  cigars  best  when 
they  are  smoked  by  others. 

Man  was  early  in  the  valley  of  the  Maas.  Here  he 
chipped  his  flints  and  hollowed  out  or  dwelt  in  the 
already  formed  limestone  caves.  The  Roman  came, 
saw,  conquered,  dwelt  long,  and  left  many  a  noble 
token  of  his  presence.  It  was  he  who  named  this 
town  at  the  "  upper  "  ford,  the  "  lower  "  ford  being 
at  Utrecht.  This  Christian  missionary  appeared 
betimes,  and  a  bishopric  was  established  at  Tongres. 


MAASTRICHT  AND  ROERMOND  257 

Three  hours  in  Maastricht  gave  me  time  to  revive 
the  military  memories  of  the  centuries  when  our 
English  ancestors  stood  shoulder  to  shoulder  against 
the  Spaniards,  and  the  soldier-fathers  of  the  United 
States  were  here  trained  for  service  in  America.  Of 
Maastricht's  many  sieges,  the  story  of  that  of  1576 
is  most  interesting. 

The  people  had  risen  up  against  the  Spanish 
garrison  and  driven  them  out  of  the  city,  but  the 
triumph  was  short.  At  Wijk,  at  the  other  end  of 
the  stone  bridge  over  the  river,  the  commander, 
D'Ayala,  made  a  stand  and  soon  summoned  rein- 
forcements, who  came  quickly  under  Alva's  son, 
Don  Ferdinand  de  Toledo.  To  rush  across  the 
bridge,  in  the  face  of  the  cannon  mounted  to  defend 
the  city,  made  even  Spanish  courage  waver,  but 
unscrupulous  ferocity  supplied  a  ready  expedient. 
Seizing  the  women  at  Wijk,  each  soldier  placed  one 
before  his  own  body,  and  thus  "bucklered  with 
female  bosoms  "  the  men  moved  forward,  leveling 
their  muskets  over  the  shoulders,  took  the  silent  bat- 
tery, and  began  in  a  true  Spanish  fashion  a  massa- 
cre. During  "  Bacon's  Rebellion  "  in  Virginia  the 
same  strategem  was  resorted  to  in  the  attack  on 
Jamestown.  The  story  of  the  "  white  aprons  "  is 
well  known,  without,  however,  a  massacre.  Evi- 
dently, Nathaniel  Bacon,  like  a  true  lawyer,  was 
familiar  with  precedents. 

I  enjoyed  seeing  the  fine  stone  bridges,  one  five 
hundred  feet  long,  with  nine  arches,  the  well-kept 
streets  of  the  city,  and  the  splendid  great  church  of 
St.  Servas,  the  oldest  in  the  Netherlands.    It  was  he 


258  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

who  first  preached  the  gospel  in  this  valley,  dying 
A.  D.  384.  The  centre  of  the  crypt  is  the  place 
where  it  is  said  his  bones  were  laid.  The  city 
was  gay  with  all  colors  of  bunting,  with  flags  and 
emblems  both  national,  provincial,  municipal,  and 
ecclesiastical,  for  the  festival  in  the  saint's  honor, 
which  was  to  last  a  week.  In  the  brilliant  church, 
already  overloaded  with  costly  ornaments  and  sym- 
bols, was  a  remarkable  exhibition  of  holy  relics, 
consisting  chiefly  of  bones  of  various  saints,  some  of 
them  mounted  in  gold  and  set  in  boxes  of  crystal 
banded  with  precious  metal  and  richly  begemmed. 
These  were  arranged  back  of  the  chancel  and  in 
the  choir,  and  one  must  pay  to  see  the  uncanny 
curiosities. 

Out  in  the  street  the  sights,  sounds,  and  smells 
compel  contrast  with  the  other  Dutch  provinces. 
One  sees  here  what  he  rarely  meets  in  either  of 
the  Hollands,  a  plenty  of  beggars.  In  place  of  the 
hard  and  fragrant  cheeses  of  the  north,  that  called 
Limburger  is  too  visible  to  the  eye  and  oppressive 
to  the  nose.  Sitting  down  at  one  of  the  little 
round  tables  outside  a  restaurant,  I  called  for  cof- 
fee ;  the  taste  was  of  chicory.  Personally,  I  prefer 
honest  Java,  no  mendicants,  and  no  bits  of  skeletons 
in  churches.  A  local  exhibition  of  art  and  industry 
in  an  old  house  of  worship  interests  me  for  a  half 
hour. 

Mounting  the  train  for  a  ride  into  Belgium,  the 
southern  frontier  is  crossed  at  4.10  p.  m.  Rain  is 
falling  heavily.  The  valley  of  the  Maas  winds  and 
curves  like  that  of  the  Mohawk,  which  it  recalls. 


MAASTRICHT  AND  ROERMOND  259 

There  are  likewise  islands,  dams,  and  locks.  At  the 
Douane,  or  custom  house,  all  are  talking  French. 
The  formalities  are  slight.  For  the  passenger  they 
consist  chiefly  in  walking  through  one  room  which 
is  Dutch  into  another  room  which  is  Belgian.  The 
falls  of  the  river  here  remind  me  of  those  of  the 
Schuylkill  at  Philadelphia,  or  of  the  Genesee  at 
Rochester.  The  Maas  is  crossed  by  iron  bridges. 
The  rocky  cliffs  of  limestone  are  mostly  dark  blue, 
lime  kilns  being  abundant.  One  station  is  named 
Argenteau  (silver  water).  Passing  another  dam  and 
falls  at  Sarolay,  we  change  cars.  Those  which  we 
take  are  smaller,  but  with  more  glass  and  light. 
The  smokers'  cars  are  called  "  f umeurs."  Near  the 
frontier  is  that  ^ed  clay  which  recalls  the  great  red 
earth-bands  I  have  lived  upon  in  New  Jersey,  and 
crossed  in  Japan.  Soon  the  tall  chimneys  and  smoky 
towers  of  Liege  are  in  sight.  In  this  triangular 
country,  as  in  Korea,  the  traveler  is  expected  to  know 
the  name  of  each  place  in  three  languages.  This 
manufacturing  city,  rich  and  dirty  as  it  is,  must  be 
remembered  in  Dutch,  German,  and  French  as  Luik, 
Luttich,  and  Liege.  I  spent  three  hours  in  it,  and 
then  took  the  night  train  back  in  the  rain  to  Roer- 
mond,  where  I  planned  to  spend  Sunday  and  have 
a  good  chat  with  a  "  Catholic  "  acquaintance  in  the 
"  Episcopal  "  college.  After  breakfast  I  walk  out 
over  the  clean  cobblestone  pavements,  and  pass  the 
episcopal  residence,  for  Roermond  is  the  seat  of  the 
Bishop's  See. 

I   enter,   for    a   half-hour's    worship,    the    great 
church  of  St.  Christopher,  which  seems  to  contain 


260  THE   AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

a  small  forest  of  wood  carving.  The  congregation 
occupies  every  seat,  crowds  fill  the  space  among  the 
decorations  and  furniture.  The  service  is  solemn 
and  beautiful,  though  I  cannot  see  the  priest.  It 
is  one  of  the  handsomest  churches  in  the  Nether- 
lands. Among  the  audience  are  the  several  hundred 
students  from  the  Bishop's  college. 

July  21,  1895.  It  is  Sunday  morning  at  Roer- 
mond.  I  am  awakened  by  the  cathedral  chimes, 
which  sound  sweetly  on  the  morning  air.  From  my 
room  in  "  The  Golden  Lion,"  I  find  myself  almost 
under  the  eaves  of  a  double-towered  stone  church, 
which  rises  imposingly  upon  the  hill.  After  wor- 
ship in  an  edifice  gorgeous  in  all  the  externals  of 
religion,  my  thoughts  run  on  the  difference  between 
the  story  of  the  Christ  in  the  gospel  as  history,  and 
the  Christ  of  Renaissance  art  and  legend. 

I  make  a  call  upon  the  professor  of  English, 
finding  a  very  agreeable  gentleman  in  clerical  skull- 
cap and  long  black  gown.  He  invites  me  to  come 
to  his  room  in  the  evening.  Two  of  his  brothers, 
proprietors  of  a  wood-carving  establishment  which 
supplies  works  of  art  and  use  for  the  Catholic 
churches  of  the  Netherlands  and  other  parts  of  Eu- 
rope, join  us.  We  make  a  quartette,  all  speaking 
English.  How  often  this  instructor  of  the  lads  in 
the  Bishop's  college  meets  heretics  and  Protestants, 
I  do  not  know  ;  but  while  I  am  anxious  to  find  out 
all  about  Limburg  and  its  people,  he  insists  on 
knowing  my  opinions  about  the  Pope.  The  brothers 
seem  equally  anxious  to  know  my  views  upon  points 
of   exegesis  and  doctrine.     The  age-old  questions, 


MAASTRICHT  AND  ROERMOND  261 

stereotyped  before  one  of  us  was  born,  are  discussed 
with  good  humor  and  a  mutual  regard  that  seems 
quite  brotherly.  It  is  very  evident,  however,  that 
a  free  frank  talk  with  a  Christian  who  counts 
neither  "the  church"  nor  tradition,  nor  "the  fa- 
thers "  nor  councils,  nor  bodies  of  divinity,  nor  even 
accepted  customs  or  institutions,  as  necessary  to  a 
knowledge  of  Christ,  is  not  an  every-day  affair  with 
those  three  brothers.  The  long  hours  of  the  night 
are  reached  before  we  know  it. 

People  in  Limburg  speak  a  patois  made  up  of 
Dutch  and  German,  and  use  mostly  German  money. 
The  wages,  however,  are  made  out  in  French  money, 
which  is  in  general  use  also.  The  people  of  the 
city  are  intensely  Roman  Catholic,  there  being  but 
five  hundred  Protestants  with  one  "  Chapel "  in  the 
town.  No  socialists  or  radical  political  orators  can 
get  a  hearing  in  Roermond.  When  recently  the  fa- 
mous socialistic  orator,  an  ex-domine,  came  to  the 
place,  he  was  not  allowed  to  speak.  Indeed,  he 
came  near  being  mobbed  and  murdered.  This  is 
told  me  with  warmth  and  zeal,  and  not  with  shame. 
The  business  men  complain  that  the  government  at 
the  Hague  will  do  nothing  for  the  development  of 
trade,  or  for  the  improvement  of  the  river  or  of  pub- 
lic works.  Even  to  speak  of  the  subject  roused 
their  wrath.  Ecclesiastically,  this  region  was  an- 
ciently under  the  Bishop  of  Miinster,  and  the  pro- 
vince was  once  part  of  Germany.  Intrinsically,  it  is 
largely  so  yet. 

I  was  quite  reluctant  to  leave  the  cosy  room  of 
the  good  brother  in  cap  and  gown,  surrounded  by 


262  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

his  books  and  student  comforts.  Down  the  corri- 
dors into  the  court  and  through  the  gate,  which  was 
bolted  behind  me,  I  passed  out  into  the  streets, 
where  one  could  find  effigies  of  saints  on  top  of  the 
pumps  and  in  niches.  Within  the  shrines  to  the 
Virgin  were  lamps  which  but  dimly  lighted  the  way, 
while  revealing  the  various  emblems  characteristic 
of  the  Roman  tradition  of  the  Christ.  My  Roer- 
mond  friends  always  used  the  terms  "  Catholic  " 
and  "  Protestant "  instead  of  "  Roman  Catholic  " 
and  "  Reforrued,"  but  having  been  so  long  among 
Greek  Catholics,  I  felt  it  necessary  to  be  more 
exact. 

Schaepman  is  the  great  hero  of  the  Limburgers 
and  North  Brabanters.  Beside  being  a  legislator 
and  "  politicus,"  he  is  a  fine  poet,  a  superb  writer  of 
the  most  elegant  Dutch,  and  an  impassioned  and 
convincing  orator.  He  is  a  Roman  Catholic  of  the 
Roman  Catholics.  Whenever  and  wherever  he 
speaks  to  popular  audiences,  the  halls  are  crowded 
and  the  enthusiasm  is  intense.  My  friend  was 
warm  in  his  praises,  believing  him  to  be  one  of  the 
greatest  men  in  Europe.  As  the  head  of  the  cleri- 
cal or  Catholic  party  he  joined  his  forces  with  those 
of  Dr.  Abraham  Kuyper,  who  is  the  head  of  the 
Calvinist  or  ultra-Protestant  contingent  in  the  Sec- 
ond Chamber  of  the  States  General.  By  combining 
their  votes,  the  two  parties  have  been  more  than 
once  able  to  rout  the  Radicals,  and  secure  a  divi- 
sion of  the  school  funds.  This  is  the  story  of  Dutch 
politics  for  over  a  quarter  of  a  century. 

Next  day  gave  me  an  opportunity  to  make  the 


MAASTRICHT  AND   ROERMOND  263 

circuit  of  the  town  and  call  up  the  ghosts  of  the 
centuries  gone.  Anciently  this  place  was  called 
"  Godswaard  op  de  Maas,"  —  God's  (river)  bank 
on  the  Maas.  Again  and  again  besieged,  it  has 
often  paid  the  penalty  of  its  situation.  In  1632  the 
Spaniards  were  forced  out  by  the  advancing  hosts 
of  Orange,  who  marched  with  the  English  allies 
under  Lord  Vere.  Roermond  surrendered  to  the 
well-fed  and  well-paid  army  of  the  Republic,  June  4. 
To-day,  as  one  sees  only  a  fragment  of  the  bastions 
remaining,  he  realizes  that  the  railroad  has  been  the 
great  leveler  of  old  town  walls,  giving  the  living 
more  air  and  light,  and  in  the  nineteenth  century 
filling  up  old  angles  with  graveyards,  gas  "  fabrics," 
windmills,  railroad  stations,  and  edifices  of  utility. 
Cities  are  not  now  used  as  forts  so  much  as  in 
former  days. 

A  Philadelphian  is  interested  in  noticing  that  a 
little  to  the  west,  amid  the  marshes,  lies  Crefeld, 
ancient  place  of  looms,  whence  came  so  many  of  the 
first  settlers  of  William  Penn's  capital  and  of  its 
suburb,  Germantown,  which  has  for  its  coat  of  arms 
a  clover  leaf.  On  each  lobe  is  an  emblem  of  indus- 
try, —  the  cluster  of  grapes,  distaff  of  flax  and  reel 
of  silk,  and  over  all  the  words  "  Vinum,  linum,  et 
textrinum."  Ah  !  delicious  was  the  "  Dutch  cake," 
and  many  are  the  well-remembered  "  Dutch  "  things, 
of  a  Philadelphia  boyhood!  We  young  folks  of 
English  descent  made  little  discrimination  between 
the  things  of  Holland  and  Germany  then,  as  indeed 
few  but  educated  speakers  of  English  do  now.  Did 
not  a  Dutch  bank  officer  in  1891  complain  to  me  of 


264  THE  AMERICAN   IN  HOLLAND 

often  getting  letters  from  England  directed  to  him 
at  "  Rotterdam,  Germany  "  ? 

From  Roermond  I  rode  again  to  Brussels  through 
a  buckwheat  country.  The  fields  seemed  to  be 
masses  of  white  blossoms,  except  where  the  turf  and 
patches  of  heather  made  polychrome,  but  all  was 
flat,  showing  how  admirably  the  Netherlands  were 
fitted  to  be  battlefields,  and  why  this  country  was  so 
long  the  cock-pit  of  Europe. 


ZEALAND 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

MIDDELBURG,   THE  HOME   OF   FREEDOM 

Zealand,  or  sea-land,  the  delta  of  the  Scheldt 
Eiver,  is  made  up  of  seven  islands,  which  have  often 
changed  their  outlines.  Here  we  see  the  grandest 
dikes  in  the  kingdom,  built  of  necessity  for  defense 
of  life  and  property.  The  restless  river  floods  and 
ocean  waves  are  continually  tearing  away  and  cast- 
ing up.  The  shifting  seashore  of  the  Netherlands 
teems  with  witnesses  of  the  past.  Almost  every 
storm  which  scours  and  ploughs  and  undermines  the 
unstable  material  brings  to  resurrection  things  of 
the  past.  Now,  a  marble  face  is  washed  clean. 
Anon,  some  image  from  a  classic  chisel  peeps  up  out 
of  the  grave.  Again,  the  keel  of  some  Norseman's 
pirate  boat  rises  into  view.  Within  this  present 
year  (1892),  a  great  Spanish  ship  with  her  moul- 
dering guns,  anchors,  and  chains  rose  almost  entirely 
out  of  the  sand  off  the  coast. 

Extremely  low  water  and  strong  westerly  winds 
now  and  then  reveal  structures  of  masonry  from 
Roman  days  and  the  vertebra  and  ribs  of  ships 
which  foundered  in  forgotten  centuries.  One  thinks 
of  that  vision  of  the  Hebrew  prophet,  borrowed  by 
a  thousand  poets  since,  of  Sheol  moved  from  beneath 
to  meet  a  newcomer,  all  the  graves  stirred  to  wel- 


268  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

come  one  who  is  to  take  his  place  with  those  van- 
ished, that  have  had  their  day  of  glory  or  of  iniquity 
upon  the  earth.  The  soil  is  yet  teeming.  Nederland 
is  a  land  of  buried  cities  and  villages.  Chronos  does 
not  devour  more  of  his  children,  nor  is  he  a  greater 
cannibal,  than  Pluvius,  who  lets  loose  his  floods  upon 
the  land,  burying  man  and  his  structures  from  sight. 
Yet  they  do  not  stay  buried.  They  are  like  unquiet 
ghosts.  Besides  those  vast  spaces  in  eastern  Zea- 
land which  were  called  "  drowned  lands,"  there  are 
many  square  miles  elsewhere  in  the  country,  like  the 
Biesbosch,  or  forest  of  reeds,  and  the  Zuyder  Zee, 
to  mention  but  two,  which  are  but  "  vast  and  wan- 
dering graves."  There  is  a  pathos  in  the  relics  of 
the  Dutch  museums.  One  of  the  richest  of  these 
to  the  student  of  science  and  history  is  that  at  Mid- 
delburg. 

With  memories  of  "  our  Middelburg  "  of  Schoha- 
rie County  in  the  Empire  State,  with  desire  to  see 
the  ancient  place  of  political  freedom  through  a 
charter  —  the  oldest  written  specimen  of  the  Dutch 
language  —  and  the  home  of  a  religious  toleration 
antedating  by  a  century  that  of  Koger  Williams, 
and  not  least,  the  witnesses  of  history  in  relics,  I 
have  been  "  early  and  often "  to  the  other  islands 
of  Zealand,  but  first  and  last  with  delight  to  Mid- 
delburg. 

Having  traversed  South  Beveland,  we  cross  a  long 
bridge  over  the  Ouse  and  the  Sloe,  and  are  upon 
that  island  of  Walcheren,  called  in  Tudor  days 
"Queen  Elizabeth's  kitchen  garden,"  and  early  in 
this  century  made  the  graveyard  for  that  disastrous 


MIDDELBURG,  THE  HOME  OF  FREEDOM    269 

British  expedition,  designed  to  humble  Napoleon, 
over  which  Lord  Castlereagh  and  Canning  (one  of 
the  ancestors  of  the  Monroe  Doctrine)  fought  a 
duel.  Westward  we  move  over  more  polders,  and 
skirt  the  Walcheren  Canal,  which,  like  a  sword, 
cuts  the  island  in  two.  We  alight  in  the  city  of 
eighteen  thousand  people,  nine  thousand  being  bare- 
armed  girls  and  women,  for  in  this  municipality  the 
evolution  of  the  female  sleeve  has  been  arrested. 

I  meet  a  guide  who  is  worthy  of  his  name  and 
hire.  He  talks  my  native  tongue  well,  and  neither 
stares  blankly  nor  tells  lies  while  floundering  in 
ignorance  over  the  kind  of  questions  I  ask.  He 
takes  me  where  /want  to  go,  and  this  is,  first,  not 
to  the  best  hotel  or  the  world-renowned  town  hall 
or  the  superb  museum,  but  to  the  Fish  Market,  and 
this  not  to  see  either  costumes  or  people. 

Though  neither  Friday  nor  early  morning,  he  at 
once  leads  me  thither.  Except  for  the  twitter  of 
birds,  the  little  square  is  quiet  enough.  Neither 
vender  nor  sea-food  is  near.  The  roofed  but  open 
structure  has  in  itself  no  charm  to  the  eye.  Further- 
more, it  is  swept,  scrubbed,  and  scraped,  and  so 
clean  is  it  that  even  the  flies  cannot  get  a  living 
here.     No  ancient  and  fish-like  smell  abides. 

The  American  must  call  this  neighborhood  holy 
ground.  For  here  was  the  birthplace  of  influences 
which  have  taken  form  on  Plymouth  Kock  and  in 
the  Constitution  of  the  United  States.  Here  dwelt 
those  people  called  in  contempt  "Anabaptists,"  — 
the  true  spiritual  ancestors  of  the  Americans,  and 
of  all  who  believe  in  keeping  Pilate  and  Caiaphas 


270  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

apart.  In  this  city  the  great  doctrine  of  freedom  of 
conscience  and  soul-liberty  was  proclaimed.  At  the 
command  of  William  the  Silent,  mighty,  but  mod- 
erate, it  became  the  law  of  the  land.  In  1577  he 
laid  the  cornerstone  of  the  Dutch  Republic  in  these 
words  to  the  magistrates  of  Middelburg :  "  We  de- 
clare to  you  that  you  have  no  right  to  interfere  with 
the  conscience  of  any  one,  so  long  as  he  has  done 
nothing  that  works  injury  to  another  person  or  a 
public  scandal." 

Here,  too,  knowing  well  the  place,  its  congenial 
mental  climate  and  the  Anabaptists  dwelling  in  the 
city,  fled  Robert  Brown  from  the  persecuting  and 
bigoted  England  of  Tudor  days,  to  print  his  Scrip- 
tural arguments  for  Christian  democracy.  It  would 
not  be  difficult  to  show  the  evolution  of  the  "  Ana- 
baptist" into  the  "  Brownist,"  the  Independent, 
the  Pilgrim  and  his  progeny,  with  their  Emerson, 
Lowell,  Holmes,  Hale,  and  the  starry  line  of  poets 
and  writers.  Harvard  and  Yale,  and  their  long  and 
brilliant  following  of  thirty-five  American  colleges, 
with  much  that  is  best  in  American  life  and  litera- 
ture. In  the  "  Anabaptist "  fraternity  of  churches 
lay  the  seed-bed  of  modern  progress. 

As  from  a  safely  anchored  bomb-ketch.  Brown 
made  the  Fish  Market  in  Middelburg,  or  some  room 
overlooking  this  square,  a  masked  battery,  whence  he 
shot  into  England  tracts,  books,  broadsides,  and  ser- 
mons. These,  smuggled  among  his  countrymen  by 
Dutch  Anabaptists,  terrified  bloody-minded  prelates 
and  fired  the  souls  of  men  whom  truth  made  free. 
Those   caught  selling,  distributing,   or  reading  the 


MIDDELBURG,  THE  HOME  OF  FREEDOM    271 

incendiary  literature  were  imprisoned,  hanged,  or 
burned.  But  what  of  that  ?  The  truth  marched  on. 
From  this  Fish  Market  printing-press,  books  without 
place  or  date,  printer's  or  publisher's  name,  multi- 
plied. Without  doubt  Brown  came  to  Middelburg 
because  his  fellow  believers  in  Christian  democracy 
were  already  here  and  tolerated  by  the  federal  Re- 
public. Thus  began  with  type  and  ink  that  long 
campaign  which  was  waged  against  prelacy  and  mo- 
nopoly in  religion  for  over  a  century,  until,  after 
Milton's  seraphic  plea,  printing  was  free  in  England, 
and  the  ban  which  classed  unlicensed  publication 
with  the  counterfeiting  of  coin  was  removed. 

Leaving  the  spot  sacred  to  the  American  student 
of  his  country's  origins,  we  turn  to  the  shrine  of 
Zealand's  magna  charta,  —  the  splendid  town  hall. 
This  gem  of  architecture  was  built  about  1512,  by 
Kelderman,  one  of  that  brilliant  family,  rich  in  men 
of  genius,  under  whose  master  eyes  and  hands  rose 
the  walls  and  spires  of  many  a  city  in  the  Nether- 
lands. How  lovely  to  the  eye  is  this  pointed  style 
of  civic  architecture,  imposing  with  its  forest-like 
richness  of  pinnacle,  in  which  the  Netherlands  excel ! 
Each  edifice  seems  to  breathe  aspiration  after  liberty, 
as  surely  as  the  Gothic  minster  seems  to  yearn  after 
the  infinite.  In  the  abundant  niches  are  statues  of 
the  counts  and  countesses  of  Zealand  and  Holland. 
As  from  the  Dutch  we  borrowed  the  expression 
"  stadhuis,"  calling  it  "  state  house,"  so  also  have  we 
transferred  the  office  of  "  schout "  and  prosecuting 
officer,  while  transforming  the  name  to  that  of  dis- 
trict attorney. 


272  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

I  am  interested  in  studying  the  Vierschaar,  or 
court-room,  on  the  first  floor,  lined  with  its  fine 
wooden  paneling  of  the  sixteenth  century,  with  foot- 
stoves  for  the  judges  and  assessors.  The  Dutch  did 
not  believe  in  big  wigs  for  judges,  but  in  having  cool 
heads  and  warm  feet.  We  remember  that  when,  in 
1609,  our  William  Bradford  reached  Flushing,  sur- 
viving the  storm  and  two  weeks'  buffeting  by  the 
sea,  some  malicious  hint  was  given  to  the  "  schouts  " 
that  he  was  a  fugitive  from  English  justice.  The 
Dutch  magistrate,  or  district  attorney,  examined  him, 
and  finding  that  he  was  a  refugee  for  conscience* 
sake  only,  at  once  released  him,  for  the  Republic  had 
no  ban  against  private  religion.  Thus  was  justice 
cheap  and  swift.  It  is  not  an  accident  that  the 
Empire  State,  which  in  its  jurisprudence  has  influ- 
enced the  whole  nation,  as  New  England  has  moulded 
it  educationally,  took  its  spirit  and  procedure  so 
largely  from  the  Dutch.  Neither  is  it  an  accident 
that  American  diplomacy  leads  the  world  in  the 
principles  of  righteousness  and  humanity. 

I  gaze  reverently  on  this  charter,  granted  to  Mid- 
delburg,  in  the  year  1253,  by  King  William  of  Hol- 
land. It  is  the  oldest  existing  deed  in  the  Dutch 
language,  and  is  so  plainly  written  that  I  can  under- 
stand much  of  it.  The  Dutch  language  in  literature 
is  fully  as  old  as  that  of  England,  for  here  is  a  docu- 
ment which  is  not  in  Anglo-Saxon  or  in  Latin,  but 
in  pure  Dutch.  Here  is  a  proof,  also,  one  law  being 
granted  for  all,  that  feudalism  was  being  undermined. 
Volumes  have  been  written  and  oratory  has  gushed 
in  floods  over  the  Kunnymede  incident,  an  episode  of 


MIDDELBURG,  THE  HOME  OF  FREEDOM     273 

feudalism,  and  the  Magna  Charta,  which  was  a  Latin 
document.  Yet  here  is  one  of  the  old  charters, 
wherein  the  Netherlands  are  so  rich,  through  which 
tyrants  were  curbed  and  emperors  bridled  by  this 
nation  that  has  done  so  much  for  liberty  and  the 
world. 

Still  in  the  lead  of  my  fluent  and  sensible  guide, 
I  traversed  the  streets  of  the  city  so  rich  in  its  Span- 
ish, English,  and  French  associations,  yet  so  thor- 
oughly characteristic  and  full  of  costume  and  color. 
The  black  velvet  coats  of  the  peasants  had  buttons 
bigger  than  Christy's  minstrels  ever  wore.  The 
jaunty  cap,  outrigger  jewelry,  and  lobster-red  arms 
of  the  women  were  in  constant  evidence.  The  tall 
chimney-pot  hats  of  the  sons  of  the  soil  had  rims 
but  an  inch  wide,  on  which  a  frisky  mouse  could  not 
wisely  dance.  They  vividly  suggested  the  Emerald 
Isle  and  the  Irishman.  One  looks  almost  instinc- 
tively to  see  a  shamrock  or  a  pipe  stuck  in  the 
hat-band  and  a  shillelah  in  hand.  Yet  there  is  no 
"  wearing  of  the  green  "  here.  One  may  talk  freely 
about  Irishmen,  even  in  the  Erse  dialect,  and  in  the 
very  face  of  these  bucolic  natives,  without  fear  of 
being  understood.  These  are  the  men  of  the  Heidel- 
berg Catechism. 

In  Middelburg  there  is  much  to  see  for  the  man 
who  borrows  eyes  from  history,  for  while  Flushing 
has  been  the  landing-place  of  natives  and  invaders 
from  times  unrecorded,  Middelburg  has  been  the 
prize  for  resistance.  The  town  arms  show  a  burg, 
or  castle,  on  a  shield  borne  by  an  eagle.  The  Eng- 
lishman thinks  first  of  Leicester,  and  indeed  that 


274  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

earl's  headquarters  in  Southern  Netherlands  are 
about  as  numerous  as  those  of  Washington  in  the 
Middle  States.  His  house,  which  he  occupied  as 
Queen  Elizabeth's  representative,  is  now  in  the 
Langedelft  among  the  curiosity  shops.  One  walks 
along  the  Burg  to  peep  at  what  is  in  our  tongue  called 
an  abbey,  but  which  in  good  Dutch  is  still  known  as 
the  Abdij.  Of  the  once  innumerable  dormitories  of 
the  monks  of  the  Middle  Ages,  this  alone  is  left  in 
the  kingdom. 

The  Middelburgers  are  justly  proud  of  their 
museum.  Learned,  indeed,  are  the  trustees  and 
curators  of  the  society  which  presides  over  this  rich 
and  unique  collection.  It  illustrates  the  various 
civilizations  that  have  flourished  on  Walcheren, 
under  the  Roman  eagle,  the  Norse  raven,  the  orange, 
white,  and  blue  flag,  and  the  banners  of  France  and 
England.  Here  history  is  told  in  steel,  on  the  die, 
and  marvelous  is  the  richness  of  Dutch  coinage  and 
medallic  history. 

The  Roman  occupation  seems  to  have  been  very 
thorough.  AU  sorts  of  carved  marbles,  stone  relics, 
bronze  weapons,  and  articles  of  domestic  use  have 
been  thrown  up  by  the  plough  or  spade.  They  ap- 
pear even  more  real,  more  eloquent  here  than  when 
brought  to  us  across  the  Atlantic.  The  mysterious 
Teutonic  goddess,  Nehalennia,  patron  of  commerce 
and  seamanship,  has  here  her  shrines  and  altars. 
Was  she  Selene  the  moon,  the  bright  god  in  the 
night  sky,  and  the  queen  of  the  underworld,  like  the 
Japanese  Benten,  beloved  of  sailors  ?  Or  was  hers 
the  local  name  of  Nerthus,  goddess  of  the  warm  sum- 


MIDDELBURG,  THE  HOME  OF  FREEDOM     275 

mer  ?  How  the  tell-tale  traces  of  ancestral  paganism 
still  remain  in  modern  names  is  seen  in  Hel-voetsluis 
and  Bree-hell  or  Briel. 

The  images  were  found  in  1647  beneath  a  Chris- 
tian church  in  Domburg.  A  votive  stone  to  the 
unknown  god  Burorina  was  also  discovered  in  this 
same  Domburg,  —  the  Scheveningen  of  Zealand. 

War  and  science,  the  conquests  of  alien  enemies 
and  of  hostile  nature,  are  the  pride  of  the  Middel- 
burgers.  In  the  chamber  hangs  a  great  map  of  Zea- 
land, showing  the  places  where  were  dug  up  weapons 
and  other  relics.  Here  is  the  metal  helmet  of  Vice- 
Admiral  Joos  de  Moor,  who  died  February  18, 1618. 
Beside  it  is  another  one  of  iron,  damascened  with 
gold,  of  the  Spanish  engineer,  Pacheco,  who  was 
hanged  in  Flushing,  1572.  Cannon-balls  from  the 
British  bombarding  fleet  which  lay  off  Flushing  in 
1809  lie  beside  the  fuse  which  failed  to  fire  the  in- 
fernal machine  which  was  expected  to  demolish  the 
fortifications.  The  days  of  exact  science  in  subma- 
rine explosives  had  not  yet  arrived. 

Most  fascinating  is  the  rude  handwheel  belonging 
to  a  ropewalk  in  which  the  Dutch  Nelson,  De  Ruy- 
ter,  when  a  boy,  worked  at  Flushing,  where  he  was 
born.  The  most  splendid  memorials  of  him  are  in 
Amsterdam.  Oversea,  in  central  New  York,  amid 
the  thickly-sprinkled  classical  reminders  bestowed  by 
Simeon  De  Witt,  is  a  group  of  naval  names  among 
which,  like  a  tulip  among  acanthus  flowers,  is  that 
of  De  Ruyter.  The  boy  in  the  ropewalk  and  son 
of  the  ropemaker  took  his  name  from  his  mother, 
traditionally  of  noble  origin,  and  who  belonged  to  the 


276  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

great  family  of  riders  or  knights.  Their  descendants 
or  name-bearers  to-day  call  themselves  Ruyter,  Hit- 
ter, Ryder,  showing  variety  in  spelling  as  great  as 
the  names  of  the  steeds  which  their  forefathers 
rode. 

Less  warlike  and  utilitarian  curiosities  are  the 
water  carafe  used  by  the  Zealandish  poet  Bellamy 
when  he  was  a  student ;  a  bough  from  the  mulberry- 
tree  planted  over  the  grave  of  Jacqueline  of  Bavaria, 
from  Goes,  whence  also  we  see  two  ancient  chairs, 
or,  as  the  Dutch  call  them,  "  stools  ;  "  with  various 
molten  relics  of  a  famous  conflagration  in  Zealand. 
Veer  is  well  represented,  Dutch  names  mingling  with 
those  from  Scotland,  like  Chalmers  and  Landseer. 
All  kinds  of  domestic  utensils  are  massed  together 
to  show  the  development  of  Dutch  decorative  art 
in  things  useful  for  eating,  drinking,  smoking,  and 
warming. 

One  furnished  room  of  the  eighteenth  century 
contains  a  painted  farmer's  table,  on  which  coffee 
and  tea  service,  with  their  "  trimmings  "  of  cream, 
milk,  and  sugar  are  conspicuous.  In  this  country, 
earliest  of  any  in  Europe,  the  hot  drinks  of  the 
Orient  became  popular.  Hence  also  was  the  tea 
herb  of  China  smuggled  to  America,  before  the 
Boston  Tea  Party  of  1773. 

One  set  of  "  old  Delft "  pictures  shows  beauti- 
fully the  evolution  of  the  rifle  :  how  the  firelock,  by 
successive  steps  of  invention,  changed  as  to  its  out- 
ward form  from  a  clumsy  log  of  iron,  needing  a 
support  in  the  middle,  with  a  bloated  muzzle  at  the 
end  and  a  long  rope  with  a  firetip  at  the  lock,  and 


MIDDELBURG,  THE  HOME  OF  FREEDOM     277 

became  first  a  snaphance,  or  snapcock,  then  a  flint- 
lock, passing  through  the  nipple  and  percussion  cap 
period,  and  thence  issuing  into  the  magazine  breech- 
loader. From  flint  chip  to  the  copper  cartridge  with 
fulminate  powder  and  leaden  bolt  of  to-day,  —  what 
a  story  of  evolution  !  Inwardly,  the  history  of  the 
barrel  was  scarcely  less  wonderful.  Rifling,  first 
done  by  the  Swiss  and  German  hunters,  gave  amaz- 
ing accuracy  and  made  war  a  science.  In  the  eigh- 
teenth century  rifles  were  used  in  war  in  only  two 
parts  of  the  world,  —  central  Europe  and  the  mid- 
dle colonies  in  America.  The  national  troops, 
ordered  and  called  out  by  the  Continental  Congress, 
and  thus  the  actual  beginning  of  our  regular  army, 
were  Colonel  Morgan's  Riflemen,  raised  almost 
wholly  in  Pennsylvania  and  Virginia  among  the 
men  of  Swiss,  German,  and  Scotch-Irish  descent. 
These  Pennsylvania  "  Dutchmen  "  laid  the  founda- 
tion of  the  reputation  of  the  American  marksman 
in  peace  and  war. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

FLUSHING  AND  MANHATTAN 

Now  we  shall  go  and  look  at  Vlissengen.  From 
ages  unrecorded,  Flushing  has  been  the  great  gate- 
way into  Zealand.  It  is  now  the  chief  terminus  of 
the  national  and  continental  iron  roads  and  steam- 
ers. Its  importance  in  the  national  system  of  de- 
fense is  seen  in  that  it  stands  as  the  keystone  in  an 
arch  of  seven  forts,  from  the  ancient  Rammekens 
to  the  modern  De  Nolle.  Its  imposing  docks  and 
engine  houses,  which  have  of  late  almost  revived  a 
once  nearly  dead  city,  interest  us  less  than  its  an- 
cient and  august  historical  associations  and  its  old 
relations  to  Caledonia.  The  Scottish  touch  is  mani- 
fest at  once.  For  centuries  this  was  a  bustling 
place  of  trade  with  Edinburgh  and  Dundee.  Then 
there  were  Scottish  factories  and  churches  at  Veer, 
Middelburg,  and  Flushing,  and  these  cities,  redo- 
lent of  the  thistle  and  heather,  resounded  with 
Lowland  speech.  Even  yet  two  of  the  churches 
remain,  though  one  Domine  from  Aberdeen  serves 
both.  A  Scotsman  can  learn  Dutch  quickly  because 
Batavian  and  Scotian  are  at  many  points  more  alike 
than  is  unlatinized  Lowland  English,  commonly 
called  "  Scotch,"  and  that  very  composite  language 
which  is  Saxon  made  turbid  or  sparkling  by  Nor- 


FLUSHING  AND  MANHATTAN  279 

man  French,  and  called  English.  The  symbol  of 
the  Scottish  church  is  the  burning  bush,  with  the 
motto  "Tamen  nee  consumebantur,*'  and  its  light 
is  still  bright  in  the  Netherlands. 

Have  you  a  Sunday  in  Flushing  ?  Then  pass  up 
the  little  narrow  street  near  the  Scottish  "hook,"  or 
corner.  There  you  will  find  the  place  of  the  Pres- 
byterian church,  with  its  Scottish  minister  and  its 
female  pew-opener,  and  they  will  be  glad  to  see  you. 

No  less  fertilizing  is  the  touch  from  Flushing 
upon  the  American  church.  As  the  light  from  the 
burning  bush  shone  from  Midian  into  Egypt,  so 
from  Vlissingen  into  Manhattan.  It  was  Scotsmen, 
or  men  of  Scottish  descent,  who,  like  Ezra  between 
the  pre-exilic  Hebrews  and  the  later  Aramaic  folk 
of  Syria,  mediated  between  the  Dutch  and  English 
language,  in  our  Middle  States.  When  New  Am- 
sterdam became  New  York,  the  new  language,  lit- 
urgy, and  fashions  swept  the  American-born  Dutch 
young  folk  from  their  ecclesiastical  moorings.  Out 
from  the  Reformed  Church  and  away  from  the 
Heidelberg  Catechism  and  the  canons  of  the  Synod 
of  Dort,  they  drifted  into  the  church  that  had  rec- 
tors and  prayer-books  and  thirty-nine  articles.  The 
Episcopal  churches  on  Manhattan  Island  and  in 
the  Hudson  River  cities  of  New  York  seem,  even 
now,  as  one  reads  the  names  of  officers  and  mem- 
bers, built  as  to  skull  and  vertebrae  out  of  Dutch 
families. 

The  Dutch  Reformed  Church  threatened  to  go 
the  way  of  its  language  and  liturgy.  How  to  arrest 
the  transfusion  of  blood  was  a  question.     The  wiser 


280  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

of  the  younger  Dutch- American  churchmen,  doubt- 
less taking  counsel  with  Dr.  Livingston,  the  grad- 
uate of  Utrecht  University,  gave  a  call  to  the 
Rev.  Archibald  Laidlie,  then  settled  here.  From 
Flushing  this  young  Scotch-Dutchman  sailed,  like 
Paul,  over  the  western  sea,  to  the  American  Mace- 
donia. He  wrought  mightily  with  those  who,  read- 
ing the  signs  of  the  times,  believed  that  orthodoxy 
could  exist  and  even  flourish  outside  of  its  Dutch 
swaddling  bands.  With  a  winning  personality  he 
overcame  the  bitter  prejudices  of  the  Manhattan 
Dutchmen  and  the  jealousy  of  the  rectors,  who 
were  hoping  to  swallow  and  digest  the  whole  Dutch 
Church.  He  made  a  translation  of  that  liturgy  of 
the  Reformed  Church,  in  the  originals  of  which 
Calvin  and  A'Lasco  had  had  a  hand,  and  which 
Cranmer  had  before  him  transfused  largely  into 
the  English  Book  of  Common  Prayer.  Laidlie's 
soul,  surcharged  with  the  spirit  of  Scottish  demo- 
cracy, reinforced  nobly  the  Dutch  traditions  of  safe- 
guarded liberty,  in  New  York,  as  against  usurping 
British  governors.  He  gradually  won  many,  "  who 
feared,  as  they  entered  the  cloud "  of  novelty,  to 
trust  God  and  the  people  and  the  English  language. 
His  portrait  shows  the  traits  of  energy,  firmness, 
power  in  seeing  both  sides,  and  suggests  the  gifts  of 
winsome  conciliation  for  which  he  was  noted. 

Dutch  conservatism,  especially  the  provincial  and 
un  progressive  sort,  which  later  and  properly  called 
forth  the  sarcasm  and  caricature  of  Washington 
Irving,  —  for  the  Knickerbockers  of  later  jest  and 
fiction  were  not  yet  invented,  —  was  well  illustrated 


FLUSHING  AND  MANHATTAN  281 

by  a  singular  fact.  Though  bitterly  opposed  at 
first,  Laidlie's  translation  of  the  Dutch  liturgy  be- 
came so  deeply  revered  —  a  sort  of  King  James 
version  —  that  it  took  fifteen  years  of  agitation  to 
correct  a  glaring  mistranslation.  In  that  sublime 
and  tender  "form  for  the  administration  of  the 
Lord's  Supper,"  from  the  pen  of  John  Calvin,  and 
still  used  in  the  American  Reformed  churches,  Laid- 
lie  had  made  this  slip,  —  as  we  read  it  in  the  edi- 
tion  of  1805,  —  "  That  we  are  confidently  persuaded 
in  our  heart  that  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  .  .  .  was 
innocently  condemned  to  death,"  etc.  Now  this 
form  of  English  meant  that  Pilate  was  free  from 
all  blame,  and  that  by  implication,  Jesus,  besides 
being  a  convict,  was  a  criminal.  The  ill  savor  of 
this  dead  fly  in  the  ointment  was  early  noted,  but 
not  until  after  fifteen  years  of  appeal  and  discussion 
in  classes  and  synods  was  the  text  made  to  read, 
as  it  does  now,  "  He,  although  innocent,  was  con- 
demned," etc. 

Laidlie's  coming  helped  powerfully  to  American- 
ize, or,  perhaps  we  should  say,  continentalize  the 
New  York  Dutchman.  Soon  followed  in  orderly 
evolution  on  American  soil,  Rutgers  and  Union  col- 
leges, a  theological  school  at  New  Brunswick,  N.  J., 
which  claims  to  be  the  oldest  in  the  country,  and 
that  noble  document,  the  constitution  of  the  Re- 
formed Protestant  Dutch  Church,  which  in  its 
general  features  is  a  remarkable  prototype  of  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States. 

Now,  on  the  soil  of  Walcheren,  it  stirs  the  pulse 
to  go  up  and  down  these  quiet  streets  and  refresh 


282  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

historic  memory.  Here,  when  the  Spanish  persecu- 
tions were  raging,  in  a  cellar  at  the  head  of  the 
great  market,  the  Christians  who  would  take  no  sac- 
ramental emblems  from  priests'  hands  met  to  remem- 
ber their  Lord  in  holy  communion.  Two  centuries 
afterward,  this  event  was  celebrated,  and  the  old  sil- 
ver chalice  used,  a  precious  relic,  was  shown.  As  early 
as  1586  the  various  Netherland  states  gave  eight 
thousand  guilders  to  build  a  chapel  for  the  English 
and  Scottish  "  help-troops;  "  for  of  these  auxiliaries 
there  were  nine  hundred  in  Flushing  and  Ramme- 
kens.  When  King  James  in  1616,  beaten  in  a  bad 
bargain  by  Barneveldt,  withdrew  the  military,  the 
British  merchants,  mechanics,  and  sailors  were  ad- 
ministered to  by  a  Scottish  chaplain,  who  married  for 
his  second  wife  the  daughter  of  the  great  Admiral 
de  Ruyter,  whose  bronze  statue  stands  to-day  on  those 
high  dikes  over  which,  in  the  storm,  the  waves  fling 
their  spray.  Later  on,  Thomas  Young,  preceptor  of 
John  Milton,  was  pastor  here. 

As  might  be  expected,  there  were  some  curious 
episodes  when  the  Dutch  and  English  were  at  war 
with  each  other,  especially  when  De  Ruyter's  can- 
non were  thundering  in  the  Thames.  All  through 
this  church's  history,  also,  the  officers  found  great 
cause  for  scandal  in  the  fact  that  the  British  resi- 
dents were  given  more  to  the  double  devotion  of 
smuggling  and  the  delights  of  "  Old  King  Cole," 
than  to  the  ecstasies  of  prayer  and  praise.  Alas ! 
only  too  common  is  still  the  sign  of  "  Tapperij  en 
sluiterij,"  which  means  drinking  from  the  tap  and 
from  the  bottle.     It  was  a  usual  custom  for  the 


FLUSHING  AND  MANHATTAN  283 

church  officers,  just  before  the  time  of  service,  to 
visit  the  tap  houses  and  literally  sound  the  tattoo  or 
retreat.  As  everybody  who  reads  Skeat  knows,  the 
word  "  tattoo  "  is  "  tap-toe,"  that  is,  the  tap  is  closed, 
the  tattoo  being  the  signal  for  closing  the  taps  of 
the  public  houses,  and  the  last  syllable  being  the 
same  as  in  our  phrase,  "  Shut  to  the  door." 

Flushing  has  never  quite  recovered  from  the  bom- 
bardment which  it  received  in  1809,  when,  in  British 
eyes  and  in  French  too,  the  Netherlands  were  a  part 
of  the  French  empire.  Since  Antwerp  and  its  fortifi- 
cations had  excited  the  fears  and  jealousy  of  the 
slow-minded  British  ministry,  a  much  belated  expe- 
dition of  nearly  two  hundred  men-of-war  and  trans- 
ports, carrying  forty  thousand  men,  was  sent  in 
command  of  Lord  Chatham  up  the  Scheldt.  Instead 
of  going  at  once  to  Antwerp,  he  stopped  to  bombard 
Flushing,  landing  his  troops  among  Walcheren's 
quagmires  in  August.  One  half  of  the  army  died  of 
marsh  fever.  Antwerp  was  not  taken.  The  British 
taxpayers  had  to  settle  to  the  extent  of  one  hundred 
million  dollars,  and  a  duel  was  fought  between  the 
quarreling  officers  of  the  crown. 

In  the  bombardment  Flushing's  handsome  city 
haU,  with  all  its  precious  records,  was  burned. 
Even  the  holy  relic,  revered  for  centuries,  from 
which  the  town  takes  its  name,  was  destroyed.  On 
the  town  arms  you  will  see  on  the  shield  a  flask 
with  chains  for  handle,  and  with  the  decoration  of 
some  animal's  head  upon  the  side-swell,  the  whole 
looking  like  Roman  or  mediaeval  work.  This  was 
the   bottle,  or   flask,  of    St.  Wilbrord,  the   great 


284  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

apostle  of  the  Netherlands,  who  landed  there  and 
went  northward,  preaching  and  teaching.  Now  the 
Dutch  word  for  flask  is  "  flasch,"  and  the  still  older 
form  "  vlasche,"  and  from  this  some  derive  the  pro- 
per name  Vlissingen,  which  has  been  Englished  as 
Flushing. 

Other  recollections  of  Flushing  are  of  the  dikes, 
here  so  imposing  and  magnificent.  Westward  from 
the  centre  of  the  town  they  are  formed  into  a  su- 
perb broad,  brick-paved  esplanade,  which  has  seats, 
where  one  may  rest  and  look  forth  over  the  vast 
blue  sea  and  air  flecked  with  the  snowy  plumage  of 
flocks  of  birds,  as  restless  as  the  wind  in  a  winter's 
storm.  In  such  a  storm  old  ocean's  pulse  races  to 
fever  madness,  and  the  foam  of  the  waves  is  tossed 
high  over  the  iron  railing,  and  the  water  ripples  in 
salt  waves  over  the  esplanade.  Better  this,  we 
thought,  than  to  have  the  streets  flooded,  as  they 
were  in  old  times,  as  when  Brewer  of  Leyden,  the 
Puritan  arrested  by  mistake  for  the  Pilgrim  Elder 
Brewster,  waited  here  six  weeks  for  a  change  of 
winds  which  should  allow  him  to  get  to  England  and 
the  fleet  of  the  Republic  to  go  after  the  pirates  of 
Dunkirk.  When  I  peeped  over  the  railing,  how- 
ever, there  was  nothing  but  the  play  of  harmless 
waves  at  low  tide. 

Here  stands  the  monument  of  De  Ruyter.  His 
father  was  so  named,  either  because  he  married  a 
lady  of  noble  birth,  or  because  he  eloped  with  her 
upon  a  horse  and  was  nicknamed  "  the  rider."  What 
odds?  This  we  know,  that  in  the  world's  naval 
annals,  De  Ruyter  stands  in  the  forefront  with  Nel- 


THE   MAID  OF  THE  DIKES 


FLUSHING  AND  MANHATTAN  286 

son  and  Farragut  and  Dewey.  In  character  he  has 
even  a  higher  honor,  for  he  was  one  of  the  modest 
and  true  followers  of  the  Divine  Master.  Here  also 
are  monuments  to  the  two  Dutch  poets,  Elizabeth 
Wolfe  and  Agnes  Bekker,  showing  that  woman's 
genius  is  appreciated  in  Zealand. 

One  may  muse  long  upon  the  great  procession  of 
historical  arrivals  and  departures  which  Flushing 
has  witnessed,  and  which  Dutch  painters  have  trans- 
ferred to  the  illuminated  canvas.  From  this  point, 
in  1559,  Philip  of  Spain  left  the  Netherlands  for- 
ever. In  answer  to  the  royal  reproaches  that  Wil- 
liam of  Orange  was  a  marplot,  he  replied  that  he 
had  acted  only  as  the  States  had  wished  him  to  do. 
Philip's  angry  answer  was,  "  Not  the  States,  but 
you !  you ! "  Whether  this  be  true  history  or  le- 
gend, it  is  certain  that  Philip  thus  early  recognized 
the  powerful  personality  of  the  silent  one. 

That  part  of  Zealand,  the  southern  tip  of  the  king- 
dom, which  lies  south  of  the  Scheldt  and  between 
the  drowned  lands  of  Saaftingen  and  the  Inside 
Horse  Market  Shoals,  is  called  Zeeuwsch  Flanders. 
It  is  vastly  easier  for  speakers  of  English  to  pro' 
nounce  the  noun  than  the  adjective  in  the  first  syl- 
lable of  Zee-land,  or  sea-land.  Though  both  noun 
and  adjective  are  monosyllables,  the  latter  is  a  hope- 
less quagmire  of  vowels  and  consonants  in  which  the 
tongue  is  submerged  as  in  quicksands.  Hulst  and 
Axel  are  the  chief  towns,  the  latter  being  very  pro- 
perly in  the  centre  of  a  region  once  mostly  under 
water,  but  now  green,  bright  polder  land.  The 
Dutch  nation  has  always   held  tenaciously  to  this 


286  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

part  of  their  country  south  of  the  Scheldt,  and  natu- 
rally, as  one  would  suppose,  belonging  to  Belgium. 

It  was  the  capture  of  Antwerp  by  the  Duke  of 
Parma,  in  1585,  which  decided  the  fate  of  the  south- 
ern Netherlands  and  made  them  "  obedient "  pro- 
vinces, cut  them  off  from  the  glorious  life  of  the 
Protestant  north,  and  doomed  them  to  be  the  private 
property  of  Spain  and  Austria  for  two  centuries. 
Strategically,  this  Dutch  grip  on  the  south  land  en- 
abled the  northern  Netherlands,  in  centuries  past, 
to  control  the  navigation  of  that  river  which  holds 
the  lifeblood  of  Belgium  and  is  the  chief  artery  of 
commerce.  When,  in  1648,  the  triumphant  Republic 
compelled  humbled  Spain  to  make  peace,  one  of  the 
conditions  was  that  the  navigation  of  the  Scheldt 
should  be  closed.  This  meant  that  Antwerp  should 
be  left  to  paralysis  and  obscurity.  For  two  centuries 
the  grandest  seaport  in  Europe  remained  an  inland 
town.  Since  navigation  was  once  more  opened,  the 
lifeblood  of  commerce  has  brought  back  her  ancient 
prosperity.  Against  this  right  of  government  to 
shut  off  a  people  from  the  enjoyment  of  natural 
highways  and  outlets,  the  United  States  in  her  di- 
plomacy has  always  protested.  Largely  influenced 
by  our  statesmen  and  the  American  doctrine,  the 
Dutch  finally  took  off  the  unnatural  and  selfish  in- 
terdict. 

Large  parts  of  Zeeuwsch  Flanders  are  low  and 
flat,  just  like  a  man's  shaved  face,  though  here  and 
there  the  face  seems  to  have  grown  a  beard  over- 
night, for  we  can  detect  a  stubble  of  hillj^  land,  where 
the  wind   may  have  blown  the  sand,  a  few  inches 


FLUSHING  AND  MANHATTAN  287 

higher  than  the  monotonous  dead  level.  Polders 
abound.  The  usual  place  names,  Vliet,  Zand,  Dijk, 
and  Burg  tell  their  history  in  their  names,  which 
are  further  illustrated  with  suggestion's  of  labor,  lore, 
or  poetry  in  the  town  arms.  What  a  picture  of  the 
agonies  and  the  triumphs  of  the  whole  human  race  is 
that  typified  by  the  lion  of  Zealand,  strenuously  exert- 
ing and  happily  victorious,  with  the  motto,  "  Luctor 
et  emergo,"  —  I  struggle,  but  I  emerge. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

THE   LITTLE   CITY   OF   GOES 

Hail  to  the  goose!  bird  of  history,  proverb, 
myth,  and  fairy  lore,  treasure  of  the  barnyard,  and 
delight  of  the  gourmand !  Honored  in  heraldry, 
material  for  wise  saws  and  modern  instances,  ever 
at  hand  for  pointing  morals  and  adorning  tales,  for 
feathering  shafts  and  making  soft  the  bed  whereon 
mankind  rests  and  finds  warmth,  its  breast-bone  a 
weather  prophet  and  its  quill  an  implement  of  liter- 
ature, its  very  name  has  but  slight  variation  of  form 
in  the  languages  sprung  from  the  one  far-off  parent, 
of  which  Sanskrit  and  English  are  daughters.  Hail 
to  the  gaping  and  yawning,  the  chattering  and  the 
hissing  bird  !  We  have  seen  it  made  a  shop  sign  as 
the  symbol  of  fortune,  and  emblem  of  the  uphol- 
sterer. We  have  heard  its  name  used  as  a  term  of 
endearment,  especially  of  wives  to  their  husbands, 
but  whoever  heard  of  it  as  the  name  of  a  city  ? 

Yet  here  in  Zealand  is  a  pretty  little  municipality 
whose  name,  Goes,  sounds  exactly  like  the  English 
name  of  this  very  bird.  Situated  in  the  heart  of 
South  Beveland,  at  the  head  of  a  canal  running  in 
from  the  Scheldt,  it  has  had  an  interesting  history. 
Gusaha  is  known  as  early  as  a.  d.  776.  To-day  it  is 
a  charming  little  city,  worthy  of  all  visitation.     To 


THE  LITTLE  CITY  OF  GOES  289 

the  foreigner  who  knows  Holland  by  book  rather 
than  by  sight,  it  is  perhaps  better  known  as  Ter- 
goes. 

Goes  was  the  home  of  that  wonderful  woman  in 
the  Middle  Ages  who  lived,  metaphorically,  in  hot 
water  most  of  her  days,  and  had  husbands  enough 
to  keep  her  from  being  happy,  withal  being  herself 
a  mischief-maker  as  well  as  a  beauty.  Very  fitly 
was  it  that  she  lived  upon  an  island  tempest-born, 
for  her  own  life  was  stormy  and  much  like  the  month 
of  March.  To  this  town,  then,  renowned  for  its 
archives  and  for  its  fragment  of  the  ancient  castle 
of  the  Countess  Jacqueline  of  Bavaria,  whom  the 
Dutch  call  Jakoba  Van  Beiren,  and  for  the  famous 
men  of  the  Van  der  Goes  family,  I  came  with  curi- 
osity and  great  expectations. 

My  host,  a  young  gentleman,  at  this  auspicious 
hour  a  newly  made  bridegroom,  was  son  of  the  cos- 
ter, or  sexton,  of  the  great  church  in  Amsterdam 
which  was  the  foster-mother  of  churches  all  over  the 
world,  and  the  helper  of  the  needy  in  many  lands. 
As  custodian  of  these  records  which  he  had  read 
and  largely  translated,  despite  their  archaic  oddi- 
ties, Mr.  K.  was  one  whom  I  wished  to  meet.  Seek- 
ing him  in  Amsterdam,  I  found  him  at  Goes. 

Met  and  welcomed  at  the  station  on  a  Saturday 
afternoon  by  a  young  Dutchman  who  had  seen  not 
only  America,  but  even  Chicago,  I  was  convoyed  first 
to  the  Koren  Burs  Hotel,  which,  as  one  can  see,  is 
named  Corn  Bourse,  or  Exchange.  It  had  for  me  a 
vast  room,  with  the  usual  furnishing  of  antique  and 
imposing  furniture.    Thence  I  hied  to  the  neat  little 


290  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

home  on  the  quay.  The  house  was  small  enough 
for  a  toy,  but  large  enough  for  comfort.  A  little 
sidewalk  fronting  it,  bald  of  all  grass,  shone  like 
an  octogenarian's  skull,  and  between  the  curb  and 
the  kade  the  paved  street  glistened  with  Saturday's 
cleanliness.  Every  part  of  the  woodwork  of  the 
house,  within  and  without,  was  bright  with  unflecked 
paint.  My  host,  having  j&nished  his  last  business 
letter  by  the  time  I  reached  his  house,  joined  me.  I 
was  in  season  to  enjoy  four  o'clock  coffee  in  his  little 
home,  where  I  found,  besides  the  plump  and  rosy 
bride,  the  old  father  and  mother,  who  had  come  down 
from  Amsterdam  to  stay  over  Sunday  with  their  son 
and  new  daughter.  In  English  the  word  of  honor, 
as  well  as  commonplace  fact,  in  speaking  of  the 
young  bride,  would  be  "  wife,"  but  in  Dutch  "  huis- 
vrouw." 

How  strange  are  the  mutations  of  words!  It 
is  from  old  Frisian  "  wyf "  that  our  word  "  wife  '* 
comes.  Some  would  have  it  mean  "  weaver,"  though 
the  root-idea  seems  to  be  that  of  trembler,  as  one 
who  trembles  before  her  husband.  The  ancient  term 
has  fallen  out  of  honor  in  its  old  home,  as  surely  as 
has  Christianity  in  its  cradle  land.  In  Frisian,  no 
one  compliments  a  woman  by  calling  her  "  wife," 
any  more  than  we  should  by  calling  her  a  "  wench," 
—  which  in  ancient  days,  as  of  Chaucer,  was  also  a 
term  of  tenderness  or  pitying  endearment.  Now,  in 
Frisian,  "wife"  has  no  more  savor  of  honor  than 
"  fish-wife  "  with  us.  How  true  it  is  that,  all  over 
the  world,  those  words  which  are  exponents  of  feel- 
ings, and  index  both  possible  honor  and  shame,  rarely 


THE  LITTLE  CITY  OF  GOES  291 

remain  stationary  in  value.  They  tend  to  rise  or 
fall  in  moral  and  literary  value.  The  speech  of 
Japan,  the  Princess  Country,  and  of  Korea  and 
China  tells  the  same  story. 

Reveries  and  wool-gathering  among  the  brambly 
paths  of  linguistics  are  quickly  over,  when  that 
"  soft  low  voice  which  is  an  excellent  thing  in  wo- 
man "  says,  "  Kopje  ?  "  The  little  cup  is  handed  me, 
accompanied  by  bright  eyes  and  a  smile.  Thereupon 
I  boldly  employ  the  Dutch  affirmative  "Ya"  and 
"  Ik  dank  u."  The  cup  of  steaming  hot  Java  lubri- 
cates all  the  joints  of  conversation.  With  my  young 
host  as  interpreter,  there  are  many  questions  from 
the  venerable  coster,  who  in  bulk  and  dignity  re- 
minds me  of  the  one  long  famed  in  New  York ;  for 
the  great  fashionable  Nieuwe  Kerk  on  the  Dam  is 
as  important  in  matrimony  and  religion  in  Amster- 
dam as  is  Grace  Church  on  Broadway.  He  inquires 
after  several  ecclesiastical  dignitaries  in  America 
who  are  mutually  known  to  us.  By  and  by,  with 
the  pride  of  a  new  bridegroom  and  a  housekeeper,  I 
am  invited  to  see  their  home. 

We  wander  over  the  place,  seeing  everything  from 
garden  to  garret,  but  not  seeing  the  ceUar.  Rare  is 
the  house  in  this  soggy,  spongy  land  that  can  boast 
of  this  vacuum  under  it.  Nature  here  has  a  special 
abhorrence  of  such  a  thing.  The  cubic  space  which 
with  us  is  allotted  to  the  excavation  air  and  storage 
under  the  domicile  is  in  Dutch  land  given  up  to 
piles,  with  usually  only  a  small  space  for  what  ven- 
tilation and  dryness  are  attainable  under  the  circum- 
stances.    I  found  all  the  traditions  of  Dutch  clean- 


292  THE  AMERICAN   IN  HOLLAND 

liness  severely  maintained.  Everything  metallic  had 
lustre,  from  the  doorbell  to  the  kitchen  tins.  Even 
the  iron  of  the  padlock  outside  was  silver-white  with 
fresh  scouring. 

Now  for  a  walk  through  the  city  of  Jacqueline, 
and  of  the  bird  that  makes  beds  and  Christmas  din- 
ners. It  is  an  afternoon  of  sunshine,  cool  and  clear 
after  the  rain.  Everything  is  shining.  Artificial 
cleanliness  is  reinforced  by  that  which  is  natural. 
Heaven  has  sent  its  purifying  moisture.  Even  the 
stars  in  their  courses  have  fought  against  the  demon 
of  dirt.  The  Dutch  Jael  has  with  her  hammer  and 
nail  smitten  to  death  every  hiding  refugee  of  filth. 
Even  the  little  fish  market,  well  columned  and 
roofed,  has  been  scoured  bright.  Up  the  canal  the 
tide  is  coming  in,  for  there  are  here  daily  ebb  and 
flow. 

The  old  city  hall  is  attractive  both  within  and 
without.  The  paintings  are  by  Geeraerts,  one  of  the 
eighteenth-century  artists,  and  the  general  furnish- 
ing is  in  the  style  of  Louis  XV.  The  shield  on  the 
arms  of  Goes  shows  four  quarters,  two  with  lions 
and  two  with  lozenges  white  and  blue.  In  the  low- 
est of  the  three  sections  is  a  goose. 

We  pass  by  remnants  of  the  old  city  walls,  calling 
up  in  imagination  the  days  of  1572  and  the  heroic 
march  of  the  Spaniards  led  by  Mondragon,  the 
fighter,  who  lived  to  be  ninety.  Slipping  in  from 
Brabant,  between  fleet  and  army,  and  over  the  hid- 
den oozy  path  that  was  neither  land  nor  water,  with 
men  that  seemed  web-footed  like  swans,  he  captured 
the  goose  city.     How  during  the  night  these  three 


THE  LITTLE   CITY  OF  GOES  293 

thousand  men  passed  over  the  "drowned  lands," 
without  being  drowned  themselves,  has  been  told 
brilliantly  by  Bor  and  Motley. 

I  felt  even  more  of  a  romantic  interest  in  what 
remains  of  the  old  chateau  of  Jacqueline,  now  turned 
into  a  hotel  and  called  the  East  End.  The  grand 
old  church,  consecrated  seventy  years  before  Colum- 
bus made  landfall  at  Cat  Island,  loomed  up  grandly. 
We  anticipated  with  delight  the  morning's  worship 
within,  for  my  guide,  philosopher,  and  friend  pro- 
mised to  call  for  me  as  he  and  his  went  to  worship 
God  in  Dutch.  We  pass  by  a  neat  little  club  house, 
with  the  name  meaning  "  Society  for  the  Banishment 
of  Things  Disagreeable."  Wonderful  is  this  muni- 
cipality of  but  six  thousand  five  hundred  people. 
No  element  of  comfort  or  of  high  civic  life  seems 
to  be  lacking.  Six  churches,  a  bank,  an  orphanage, 
an  old  people's  home,  auction,  market,  prison,  courts, 
post-office,  —  all  the  cosy  luxuries  of  civilization  are 
here  for  the  terror  of  evil-doers  and  for  the  praise 
of  them  that  do  well. 

Evening  is  spent  with  mine  host.  I  get  some  idea 
of  civic  economy.  He  pays  a  national,  a  provincial, 
and  a  municipal  tax.  The  fiscal  year  begins  in  May. 
Of  the  eighty-five  guilders  in  taxes  ($34),  twenty 
are  for  the  state,  eighteen  for  the  province,  and 
thirty  for  the  city,  the  remainder  being  for  matters 
purely  local.  The  taxes  are  assessed  on  house  and 
ground,  on  doors  and  windows,  fireplaces  and  stoves, 
on  furniture,  on  servants  and  workmen,  on  horses, 
etc.  During  the  evening  we  walk  out  to  call  upon 
a  neighbor  who   talks   English  well,  and   who   is 


294  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

proud  of  his  garden  with  its  manifold  flowers.  Sit- 
ting in  the  arbor,  we  find  it  as  true  as  Baedeker 
that  Dutdi  women,  like  their  sisters  all  over  the 
world,  do  not  like  things  that  crawl,  especially 
spiders.  Whether  the  repulsion  to  these  arachnidas 
be  on  account  of  their  unsightliness,  alleged  ven- 
omousness,  or  as  symbols  of  unhousewifely  neglect, 
the  Dutch  woman  abhors  them.  They  may  take 
hold  in  kings'  palaces,  but  never  in  her  house,  or 
even  in  her  garden,  if  she  can  help  it.  In  Japanese 
folk-lore,  the  case  is  different.  To  the  maiden  in  the 
sunny  isles,  the  spider  may  be  a  many-footed  post- 
man, welcomed  as  the  messenger  of  good  news,  but 
neither  like  the  Greek  nor  the  Japanese  virgin  is 
the  Dutch  bride.  Let  but  a  spider  try  to  act  the 
rhyme  of  nursery  legend,  and  our  Trintje  becomes  a 
veritable  Miss  Muffet. 

The  stars  glittered  brightly  as  I  looked  out  of  my 
hinged  casement,  over  across  the  shadows  of  the 
open  marketplace  opposite,  before  I  lay  down  on  my 
goose-feather  bed  and  colossal  pillows.  I  seemed 
to  live  for  the  nonce  amid  a  vast  procession  of  bodi- 
less and  shadowy  creatures,  silhouettes  of  history,  in 
skins  and  thongs,  in  togas  and  helmets,  in  embla- 
zonry of  codfish  and  fishhooks,  in  feathered  caps  and 
slashed  velvet  doublets,  in  iron  morion  and  damas- 
cened breastplates,  in  republican  cockades  and  well- 
buttoned  red  coats,  all  of  whom  had  moved  over  the 
stage  of  history  in  that  little  city  with  its  droll  name. 
Rich  and  fat,  well  fed  and  proud,  but  constantly 
plucked,  was  this  web-footed  city  standing  on  land 
but  ever  surrounded  by  water. 


THE  LITTLE  CITY  OF  GOES  295 

Happily,  in  my  case,  history  slept  also  for  eight 
hours.  With  surcease  from  the  ghosts  of  the  past, 
I  woke  out  of  the  happy  death  of  consciousness  to 
the  glorious  resurrection  of  a  new  day,  —  the  glad- 
some day  of  the  Lord. 

I  felt  as  vast  and  hilarious  as  a  goose  under  a  barn 
door,  which  bends  its  neck  as  it  enters,  as  I  stepped 
into  the  dining-room,  large  and  wide,  for  my  break- 
fast. In  a  Dutch  hotel  they  bring  you  the  hot  coffee 
made  in  such  proportions  of  strength  as  seems  wise 
to  the  presiding  genius  of  the  kitchen,  with  loose 
sugar  in  myriads  of  very  small  crystals,  and  milk 
instead  of  cream.  There  is  a  ridiculous  little  silver 
spoon  with  which  to  sip  the  hot  liquid.  Another  of 
bone  or  ivory  is  for  eggs,  to  remove  the  danger  of 
contamination  between  silver  and  sulphur.  In  the 
tray  will  be  several  kinds  of  bread,  if  you  are  in 
a  large  city ;  but  there  are  marked  limitations  as  to 
variety,  if  you  are  in  a  small  place.  Cheese  of  more 
than  one  kind,  suggesting  geography  by  the  very 
names,  and  wafer-like  slices  of  sausage,  either  cream- 
colored  or  red,  well  dotted  with  white  fat  or  gristle, 
form  part  of  the  regular  breakfast.  Anything  else 
is  extra,  and  prepared  only  on  order.  Those  who 
prefer  tea  will  find  the  hot  water  boiling  over  a  gas 
stove,  which  is  fed  from  the  fixtures  above  by  a  rub- 
ber tube.  He  can  drink  his  Bohea  as  strong  as 
Samson,  or  "  weaker  than  a  woman's  tear." 

Refreshments  have  become  memory  and  letters 
to  Lyra  written  and  sealed,  when  my  host  calls  for 
me  to  go  to  the  meeting-house,  —  the  Groote  Kerk. 
The  little  city  is  very  quiet.     We  walk  under  great 


296  THE   AMERICAN  IN   HOLLAND 

rows  of  trees  arching  overhead.  The  service  begins 
at  half -past  nine.  As  we  are  there  at  9.15,  we  have 
time  to  walk  in  the  vast  and  airy  spaces  of  the  great 
minster.  Only  the  north  side  of  an  edifice  which 
could  hold  all  the  inhabitants  of  Goes  is  now  used 
for  service.  This  superb  cathedral,  named  in  honor 
of  Mary  Magdalene,  was  built  in  an  age  when  the 
Christian  ritual  was  so  largely  spectacular  and  pro- 
cessional, when  high  banners,  resplendent  emblems, 
and  gorgeously  robed  worshipers,  with  incense  and 
lights  and  high-borne  candles,  required  vast  spaces, 
long  and  broad,  and  when  all  the  dimensions  were 
those  suggestive  of  aerial  altitudes,  of  forest  vistas, 
of  the  grandeur  and  immensity  of  space.  Before  the 
Keformation,  it  sheltered  under  its  brooding  wings 
vast  congregations,  which  included  all  who  dwelt 
within  the  city  moats  and  walls,  with  many  from  the 
regions  adjacent.  Now,  however,  when  the  external 
unity  of  the  faith  is  broken,  the  little  city  of  the 
goose  has,  besides  its  Catholic  church,  four  edifices 
consecrated  to  the  worship  of  God  through  the 
Christ. 

The  province  of  Zealand,  one  of  the  boldest  and 
toughest  in  the  Eighty  Years'  War,  and  the  most 
radically  Protestant  state  in  Europe,  has  but  slightly 
changed.  Probably  a  larger  portion  of  the  people 
adhere  to  the  Reformed  faith  than  in  any  other  of 
the  eleven  provinces.  Zealand  is  to  the  Protestant 
what  Limburg  is  to  the  Catholic  branch  of  the 
Church  Universal.  During  the  day  I  looked  into 
the  Christian  Reformed  church,  a  plain  edifice  built 
in  modern  style,  and  into  the  Gereformeerde  Kerk 


THE  LITTLE   CITY  OF  GOES  297 

edifice  ;  and  further,  although  it  seemed  to  shock  my 
orthodox  and  respectable  host,  I  persisted  in  wishing 
to  see  also  the  little  Congregational  meeting-house, 
which  was  up  a  side  street  in  an  humble  section  of 
the  town,  in  part  of  a  secular  edifice  of  some  sort. 
Here  was  the  Vrije  Gemeente,  or  Free  Christian 
(Evangelical)  Community,  one  of  the  fifty  or  more 
congregations  unattached  to  any  ecclesiastical  cor- 
poration in  the  Netherlands. 

It  seemed  strange  to  think  of  Dutch  Congregation- 
alists,  and,  instead  of  New  Englanders  dressed  in  the 
latest  fashions,  to  find  farmer-looking  men  in  black 
corduroy  velvet,  with  enormous  silver  buttons  and 
hats  small  of  rim.  The  female  Congregationalists 
were  somewhat  short  of  skirt,  but  economy  around 
the  ankles  meant  numerous  thicknesses  of  skirt.  In- 
stead of  Paris  dresses  of  yesterday's  cut,  they  wore 
the  Zealand  basque,  with  neck  chains  of  coral,  em- 
broidery, and  velvet,  and  sleeves  that  were  but  a 
germ,  for  they  ended  after  four  inches  of  growth  had 
been  attained,  disclosing  the  usual  scarified  bare 
arms.  As  swarthy  as  the  tents  of  Kedar,  yet  also 
as  crimson  as  the  curtains  of  Solomon,  seem  the  sun- 
burned country  faces.  On  their  heads  was  nothing 
but  nature's  covering  of  luxuriant  hair,  crowned  by 
the  Zealand  lace  cap.  Beside  each  eye,  on  the  right 
and  on  the  left,  was  the  usual  substitute  for  a  jew- 
elry store,  —  balls,  mirrors,  pendants,  corkscrews, 
and  what-not.  Their  faces  were  apparently  as  hon- 
est as  the  blue  sky  that  seemed  borrowed  in  their 
eyes.  Here  was  no  sign  of  wealth  or  worldliness,  or 
routine  orthodoxy,  but  here  were  devout,  reverent 
people,  true  to  their  convictions. 


298  THE   AMERICAN  IN   HOLLAND 

Sunday  afternoon  made  me  ask  Lowell's  question. 
It  was  the  day  of  the  summer  solstice,  and  rarely 
beautiful  was  the  sunshine  and  calm.  I  sat  awhile, 
with  "  love  in  a  cottage,"  looking  out  on  the  tide 
then  coming  in,  and  at  the  gently  rising  and  falling 
sloops  and  schooners.  Every  one  passing  the  open 
window  at  which  I  sat  bowed,  the  men  taking  off 
their  hats.  Noticing  that  some  of  the  peasant  girls 
wore  their  starched  lace  caps  cut  square  at  the  top, 
while  others  were  rounded,  I  asked  why  it  was  so. 
My  host  informed  me  that  by  this  way  the  Reformed 
and  the  Catholics  showed  their  spiritual  possessions 
and  preferences. 

We  went  out  for  a  walk,  calling  for  a  few  moments 
on  the  Domine,  who  that  morning  had  preached  in 
the  great  church.  He  seemed  as  fine  a  specimen 
of  physical  as  of  spiritual  manhood.  We  discussed 
the  movements  of  theology  in  the  Netherlands.  In- 
quiring further  about  local  church  life,  I  learned 
that  a  great  tree  was  set  up  in  the  church  at  Christ- 
mas time,  with  lights  and  gifts  for  the  children. 

The  Goes  Kermis  lasts  a  week.  Then  there  are 
great  drinking  and  jollity.  Pretty  much  the  whole 
country  around  moves  to  town  in  a  body  to  enjoy  the 
fun.  Temperance  and  morality  suffer  somewhat  in 
the  change  of  environment.  Not  a  few  of  the  men 
become  as  limp  as  batter-cakes  on  the  griddle.  Early 
the  next  morning,  after  heavy  carousal,  there  are 
headaches  and  stupidity.  The  roses  of  pleasure  have 
fallen,  but  the  thorns  remain.  Wives  seek  their 
husbands  on  the  pavements,  rolling  them  over  for 
recognition  and  back  again,  if  not  the  sought-for,  as 
if  they  were  human  flapjacks. 


THE  LITTLE  CITY  OF  GOES  299 

Housekeepers  employ  either  the  servant  of  ordi- 
nary dress  and  of  town  origin,  or  the  country  girls 
who  adhere  inflexibly  to  the  Zealand  costume,  of 
which  there  are  twenty  or  thirty  local  varieties  in 
this  island  province.  Servants  change  places  and 
mistresses  on  the  second  Tuesday  in  May,  which  is  a 
great  time  of  local  bustle.  The  third  day  of  Christ- 
mas week  and  Pinkster  are  also  likely  to  be  times  of 
change  in  domestic  service.  On  November  3  is  the 
Tooneel,  or  the  great  show-day,  the  grandest  of  all 
the  year  for  the  country  folk,  who  then  flock  almost 
in  a  body  into  the  Goose  city. 

Walking  over  to  the  village  of  Kloetinge,  we  pass 
through  the  rich  fields  already  in  flower,  full  of  wav- 
ing grain  for  the  hastening  harvest.  The  fertility 
of  Zealand  is  extraordinary.  Every  acre  seems  well 
cultivated.  The  clover-fields  are  magnificent.  I 
wondered  if  Claverack,  N.  Y.,  which  means  Clover 
Nook,  had  been  named  by  a  Zealander.  An  immense 
amount  of  buckwheat  and  barley  is  cultivated.  I 
noticed  many  tobacco-fields.  With  their  faces  set 
churchwards,  the  lace-capped  women,  and  solemn- 
looking  men  dressed  in  velvet  and  buttons,  were 
walking  through  the  paths.  The  little  folk,  boys 
and  girls,  in  garb  exactly  like  their  elders,  were  also 
moving  to  the  great  church,  where  instruction  is 
given  in  the  Heidelberg  Catechism.  Some  of  the 
roads  were  through  lines  of  clipped  trees,  which 
looked  as  if  they  had  just  stepped  out  of  a  barber 
shop.  Apparently,  the  Sabbath  day  is  remarkably 
well  kept  in  the  villages. 


SOUTH  HOLLAND 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

SOUTH  HOLLAND 

He  who  studies  a  large  map  of  the  Dutch  king- 
dom is  not  long  in  finding  out  the  reason  why  for- 
eigners, and  especially  English  people,  persist  in 
calling  the  Netherlands  "  Holland  ;  "  yet  this  is  as 
though  men  were  to  call  the  United  States  "  New 
England."  There  are  eleven  provinces,  and  there 
are  but  two  Hollands.  During  the  Middle  Ages 
and  in  the  era  of  the  Republic,  there  were  seven 
united  provinces,  of  which  Holland  was  but  one. 
Yet  since  that  one  province  of  Holland  was  in 
wealth  and  population  nearly  equal  to  all  the  others, 
it  is  no  wonder  that  it  overshadowed  all.  Holland 
contributed  nearly  fifty  per  cent,  of  the  taxes,  had 
within  her  limits  the  national  capital,  the  largest 
cities,  and  the  chief  seats  of  trade,  faced  and  com- 
pletely occupied  the  only  unbroken  line  of  sea- 
coast.  Moreover,  since  through  it  flow  the  Rhine 
and  the  Waal,  which  furnish  the  water  that  gives 
the  whole  realm  its  life  and  power,  it  is  no  wonder 
that  Holland,  facing  Albion,  stood  in  England's  eyes 
as  the  country  itself.  It  is  a  case  where  the  name 
is  at  least  half  of  the  reality. 

South  Holland,  with  its  million  of  inhabitants 
and  its  prosperous  cities  of   Leyden,  Hague,  Delft, 


304  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Rotterdam,  Gouda,  and  Dordrecht,  its  mighty  water- 
ways, rich  soil,  and  flourishing  manufactories,  is 
able  to  hold  its  own  as  a  rival  of  its  sister  province, 
North  Holland,  even  though  it  has  not  Amster- 
dam. Here  are  the  old  "  lands,"  —  Rijnland,  Delft- 
land,  Schieland,  the  lands  of  Voorn  and  Putten, 
and  others  which  are  islands.  There  are  also  four 
"  waarden,"  Hoeksche,  Zwindrecht,  Krimpen,  Al- 
blassen,  etc.  Formerly,  these  were  isolated  districts. 
Now,  they  are  more  or  less  obliterated  for  the  tour- 
ist by  the  railway,  though  their  names  are  still  in 
use  among  the  people  and  known  to  the  engineer, 
magistrate,  and  political  economist.  Superficially, 
South  Holland  is  a  great  bowl,  or  series  of  hollows, 
like  a  honeycomb,  the  various  cells  having  for  their 
walls  the  coast  dunes,  the  river,  sea,  or  partition 
dikes.  The  province  is  doubly  rich  in  "  treasures 
of  the  deep  which  lieth  under."  The  depth  of  the 
land  next  the  ocean  is  generally  at  least  two  and 
a  half  to  five  metres  below  sea  level,  but  toward  the 
west  there  is  a  rise  to  the  sand  heaths.  Fertility  is 
greatly  increased  by  the  many  streams  which  distrib- 
ute the  water  brought  from  the  heart  of  the  conti- 
nent. South  Hollanders  count  up  in  their  stock  of 
rivers  the  old  Rhine,  Hollandish  Ijssel,  Lek,  Linge, 
Alblas,  Merwede,  Maas,  Rotte,  and  Gouwe,  besides 
several  canals  which  once  were  rivers. 

Almost  every  one  of  the  larger  cities  has  a  pecul- 
iar renown.  The  Hague,  for  centuries  the  national 
capital,  is  the  uncommercial  show-city,  where  reside 
the  nobility,  people  of  fashion,  and  retired  profes- 
sional men.      Here  society,  art,  and  culture  have 


SOUTH  HOLLAND  305 

their  homes.  Leyden  glories  in  its  university,  and 
considers  itself  the  brain  of  the  nation.  Delft  has 
for  centuries  been  the  seat  of  the  Polytechnic 
School,  one  of  the  first  in  modern  times,  and  still 
unsurpassed,  perhaps,  in  Europe.  Gouda,  besides 
furnishing  clay  pipes  to  the  smokers  of  the  world, 
was  one  of  the  earliest  seats  of  printing  in  the  king- 
dom. Dordrecht,  the  oldest  of  truly  Dutch  cities, 
held  the  only  Protestant  Ecumenical  Council  ever 
gathered.  Its  name  in  modern,  though  not  in  very 
recent  times,  stood  for  a  certain  type  of  theology. 
In  mediaeval  days  it  was  linked  with  associations  of 
mint,  coinage,  and  "  staple."  Rotterdam,  the  sec- 
ond city  in  size,  is  the  leading  commercial  emporium 
of  the  kingdom.  Of  Schiedam,  what  drinker  of  its 
gin,  called  "genever  "  in  one  country,  "  Hollands  "  in 
another,  and  "  schnapps  "  in  a  third,  does  not  know  ? 

The  southern  part  of  the  province  is  a  network 
of  islands  made  by  the  ever-shifting  rivers.  Vastly 
different  are  their  ancient  from  their  modern  out- 
lines. The  central  and  northern  parts  of  South 
Holland,  though  not  without  ''  rivers,"  are  watered 
mainly  by  canals  which  get  their  supply  from  the 
Rhine  waters.  There  are  still  left  a  few  undrained 
lakes,  —  the  survivors  and  relics  of  the  scores  which 
once  covered  the  country.  Even  in  ancient  days 
South  Holland  had  the  best  area  of  soil  rich  in  that 
ever-fertile  sea-clay. 

Up  to  the  millennial  year,  and  even  later,  there 
were  four  "lands,"  two  of  which  took  their  names 
from  the  rivers  which  flowed  through  them.  Then 
there  were,  near  the  modern  Amsterdam^  Niftar  and, 


306  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

just  east  of  it,  Nardine  (Naarden)  land.  Southward 
lay  Germepi,  and  south  of  this  again  "  the  lake  et 
Isla  "  (the  lake  and  island),  while  Houtland,  that 
is  Woodland,  or  Holland,  lay  between  the  Maas 
River  and  the  Rhine,  a  long,  rich,  oval  island  divided 
in  the  centre  by  the  Waal.  This  was  the  original 
of  Holland.  To  the  insular  part  of  southwestern 
Holland  nearest  the  sea  was  given  the  name  of 
Forne,  or  Voorn.  On  the  mediaeval  maps,  there 
are  in  Rhine  and  Maas  lands,  as  compared  with  the 
Waterland  to  the  north,  few  ponds  or  lakes,  and 
fewer  cities  with  a  reputation  and  a  name  known  in 
writings.  Yet  we  recognize  Amuthon  (Muiden), 
Wirjida  (Woerden),  Leithen  (Leiden),  Flardinga 
(Vlaardingen),  and  Thuredrecht  (the  tower  at  the 
ford,  Dordrecht).  In  four  of  these  places  named, 
there  were  Christian  churches  before  the  twelfth 
century,  and  in  one  or  two,  as  early  as  the  ninth. 

Now,  as  for  centuries  past,  the  church  spire  domi- 
nates the  landscape,  the  wild  rivers  have  been 
tamed,  man  and  beast  thrive  in  fatness,  and  rich 
cities  cover,  this  garden  province.  To-day  the  names 
tell  eloquent  stories.  Dutch  cities  have  grown 
around  fords,  castles,  dams,  and  havens.  In  these 
terminal  names  we  have  perhaps  the  correct  order 
of  succession.  Men  waded  before  they  built 
bridges.  Feudal  castles  came  before  dams.  Sea- 
commerce  on  a  large  scale  was  a  late  enterprise. 
Look  along  the  Waal,  and  note  the  places  ending  in 
"  drecht,"  —  as  tell-tale  of  the  growth  of  the  town 
around  a  ford  as  is  a  glacier  scratch  of  ice  work. 
"  Ambacht "  has  its  own  story  to  tell,  and  so  has 


SOUTH  HOLLAND  307 

"  burg."  The  village  names  ending  in  "  kerk  "  show 
that  the  edifice  for  worship  was  the  chief  thought 
and  landmark  in  the  neighborhood.  "Berg,"  or 
"bergen,"  pictures  to  the  mind  hills  or  mounds, 
as  does  "  bosch,"  groves  or  woods  ;  "  hout,"  timber  ; 
"heiden,"  the  heath;  and  the  "ports"  and  "  ha- 
vens," the  various  places  arrived  at  by  water.  Of 
dams  there  are  many,  but  all  of  these  are  since  the 
twelfth  century,  for  they  were  born  since  the  days 
of  engineering.  Dordrecht  tells  by  its  name  of 
the  tower  of  the  ford,  built  probably  first  by  the 
Romans,  yet  possibly  on  the  foundation  of  some  old 
Keltic  stronghold.  Leyden  takes  its  name  from 
the  Keltic  word  "  lug,"  or  as  we  spell  it,  "  look,"  it 
being  a  looking-place  or  signal  station  among  the 
dunes. 

There  were  two  Lugdunums  in  the  Keltic  world 
and  later  in  the  Roman  empire,  and  both  so  named 
because  they  were  situated  at  the  confluence  of  two 
rivers.  The  cities,  Leyden  in  Holland  and  Lyons 
in  France,  were  once  called  by  the  same  name. 
The  modern  difference  of  pronunciation  shows  how 
words  change  by  differing  process,  according  as 
they  issue  from  Dutch  or  French  mouths.  Both 
were  forts  of  observation  looking  up  and  over,  and 
down,  that  is,  commanding  in  the  one  case  the  two 
Rhine  streams,  and  in  the  other  the  Rhone  and  the 
Saone.  The  Romans  used  the  same  name,  Lug- 
dunum,  distinguishing  them  by  adding  Batavorum 
or  Galliae. 

There  has  been  not  a  little  error,  by  the  way,  pro- 
pagated and  kept  alive  even  by  Dutch  schoolbooks. 


308  THE   AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

concerning  the  true  Rhine  River  and  its  waters. 
This  wonderful  river  keeps  its  name  from  the  German 
frontier  to  Wijk-bij-Duurstede.  The  so-called  Rhine 
in  Utrecht  and  at  Leyden  "is  probably  no  dead 
branch  of  that  river,"  —  I  quote,  from  his  letter  to 
me,  the  words  of  the  secretary  of  the  Royal  Institute 
of  Engineers,  one  of  the  ablest  in  his  profession  in 
the  Netherlands,  —  "it  is  a  canal  in  the  large  water- 
schap  of  Rhynland.  Not  a  drop  of  Rhine  water  flows 
in  that  canal.  So  the  legend  that  the  Rhine  dies  of 
stagnation  and  has  to  be  assisted  to  die  by  locks  is 
really  untrue.  .  .  .  Our  Dutch  geographical  school- 
books  have  contributed  greatly  to  spread  this  awful 
error,  which  was  so  popular  in  Holland  and  other 
countries."  Since  Beekman  published  his  classic  work 
"  Nederland  als  Polderland,"  making  clear  the  dif- 
ference between  "rivers,"  or  streaming  waters,  and 
"  canals,"  or  dead  waters  shut  up  by  sluices,  science 
and  the  popular  ideas  have  more  closely  harmonized. 
One  sees  why  the  country  is  called  Holland,  or 
Woodland.  To  the  average  American,  whose  range 
in  this,  one  of  the  first  of  America's  many  father- 
lands, is  usually  along  the  strip  between  the  two 
dams  on  the  Rotte  and  the  Amstel,  this  statement 
may  seem  strange,  that  is,  untraditional.  Neverthe- 
less, the  amount  of  natural  forest  land,  of  cultivated 
timber,  of  planted  heaths,  and  of  shade  trees  by  the 
roadside,  not  only  in  Holland  proper,  but  in  the  whole 
kingdom,  is  enormous.  Looking  from  the  top  of  a 
tower  as  in  Utrecht,  Groningen,  or  Rhenen,  one  is  im- 
pressed with  the  generous  space  occupied  by  "bosch  " 
and  "  boom."     The  herbaria  of  the  four  living  and 


SOUTH  HOLLAND  309 

two  dead  universities  (Franeker  and  Harderwijk) 
are  wonderfully  rich.  Bark,  sections  of  timber,  seed, 
leaf,  and  all  the  belongings  and  parasites  of  the 
trees  native  to  the  Netherlands,  set  and  inclosed  in 
the  form  of  books,  make  wonderful  libraries.  The 
Dutch  are  mighty  lovers  of  trees  as  well  as  of  flowers. 
Besides  planting  them  by  the  houses  for  themselves, 
they  rear  them  in  the  meadows  for  their  cattle.  The 
brick-paved  roads,  threading  the  kingdom  in  every 
direction,  are  pleasant  to  all  by  cycle  or  on  foot,  even 
on  the  hottest  days,  by  reason  of  the  long  line  of 
protecting  shade.  The  approaches  to  nearly  all  rail- 
way stations,  instead  of  being  vulgarized  by  adver- 
tisements and  board  fences,  are  made  attractive  with 
foliage,  shrubbery,  and  the  tall  sentinels  transplanted 
from  the  forest. 

We  do  not  forget  that  there  are  other  possible 
derivations  of  Holland's  name.  Least  plausible  of 
all  is  that  which  associates  the  word  with  what  is 
hollow ;  for  the  term  Holland  is  much  older  than  the 
dikes  and  dams.  No  town  name  ending  in  "  dam  " 
goes  beyond  the  twelfth  century.  The  Netherlands, 
of  many  levels,  hollows,  and  diked  land,  or  cells 
containing  drained  lowlands,  is  a  modern  creation. 
It  may  be  possible  that  Holland  means  Hay-land, 
from  "  hool "  (hay),  but  this  is  not  likely,  despite  the 
fact  that  this  country,  in  which  the  modern  plough 
was  invented,  consists  less  of  arable  than  of  pasture 
land. 

There  is  a  striking  variety  of  soil,  landscape, 
scenery,  crops,  dialect,  and  costumes  in  these  lower 
provinces,  —  far  more  than  most  through-train  pas- 


310  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

sengers  dream  of.  Between  the  Amstel  and  the 
Maas  are  the  Holland  cities,  the  art  galleries,  and 
the  pastures  rich  in  cows.  The  two  Hollands,  North 
and  South,  are  the  wealthiest  of  the  eleven  pro- 
vinces, not  only  because  they  are  nearest  the  ocean 
and  have  commerce  and  manufactures,  but  because 
their  soil  consists  for  the  most  part  of  the  fertile 
sea-clay. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

ROTTERDAM 

Most  Americans,  and  indeed  nearly  all  English- 
speaking  people,  fail  to  do  Kotterdam  justice.  They 
make  of  it  a  mere  terminal  facility.  Indeed,  the 
way  in  which  so  many  of  them  go  farther  and  fare 
worse  reminds  me  of  a  certain  rustic  party  at  the 
Centennial  Exposition  in  Philadelphia.  Paying  each 
one  his  half-dollar  and  passing  the  stile,  the  group 
was  thus  addressed  by  their  sapient  leader,  "  Now, 
let  us  be  sure  that  we  see  everything.  First,  there  's 
'  The  Exit."  Let 's  go  see  that.'  And  so,  before 
they  knew  it,  they  had  passed  out,  and  lost  their 
money  with  their  opportunity. 

Hardly  less  wise  are  some  who  would  find  more 
enjoyment  if  they  took  the  right  course.  Rotterdam 
improves  on  acquaintance.  It  is  a  city  of  delightful 
homes,  of  lovely  gardens,  of  means  of  recreation  and 
culture.  There  is  a  great  reward  in  studying  and 
comparing  the  old  and  the  new  parts  of  the  city,  and 
in  using  this  comfortable  municipality  as  a  centre 
for  excursions  up  and  down  the  river  and  to  the 
towns,  "  lands,"  and  historic  spots,  within  easy  reach. 
One  may  go  by  tram  to  Delfshaven,  now  part  of 
Rotterdam.  No  market  is  livelier  than  the  great 
one  which  has  the  statue  of  Erasmus  for  its  centre. 


312  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Directly  opposite  the  bronze  man  with  the  book,  on 
whose  head  the  birds  perch  fearlessly,  is  the  site  of 
the  House  of  a  Thousand  Fears.  Near  the  Cheese 
Market  is  the  City  Hall.  Not  far  from  the  New 
Market  is  the  handsome  fountain  with  statuary, 
reared  in  1872,  when  the  Dutch  celebrated  their 
three  hundredth  anniversary.  Then  they  recalled 
the  glories  of  the  Beggars  of  the  Sea  and  their  cap- 
ture of  Briel,  whose  great  church  tower  one  sees  as 
he  comes  up  the  Maas.  The  historical  and  symboli- 
cal figures  around  the  fountain  are  very  fine.  The 
shotmen  who  carried  firearms  stand  with  bandoliers, 
arquebus,  and  dagger,  in  their  caps  and  ruifs,  and 
those  knickerbocker  breeches  which  modern  taste 
declares  to  be  the  correct  garment  for  the  lower 
limbs.  Here  also  is  Kenau  van  Hasselaer,  who  with 
her  trained  woman  soldiers  fought  on  the  walls  of 
Haarlem,  more  than  once  driving  back  the  whiskered 
Spaniards. 

Fascinating  also  is  the  study  of  the  old  streets  — 
Kip,  Hoog,  Hang,  Raam  —  and  the  life  in  them.  In 
their  very  names  they  tell  of  the  evolution  of  the 
great  city  from  a  village  of  fishermen  on  a  dike, 
where  they  hung  their  nets  to  dry,  while  the  weavers 
rotted  their  stalks  of  flax  in  the  water,  and  then 
made  their  webs  and  spread  out  their  products  to 
dry  or  to  bleach. 

Rotterdam,  whose  "  new  dike  "  was  built  in  A.  D. 
1000,  and  which  received  its  charter  in  1340,  is  not 
without  its  memories  of  "  the  troubles  "  and  of  Philip 
II.  of  Spain,  while  it  is  rich  in  memories  of  the 
Father  of  the  Fatherland.    The  king's  travels  in  the 


ROTTERDAM  313 

Netherlands  are  described  in  detail  in  a  Spanish 
book  printed  at  Antwerp  in  1552,  and  now  in  the 
Rotterdam  City  Library,  —  where  1  have  spent  plea- 
sant hours.  When  twenty-two  years  old,  with  his 
Aunt  Marie  of  Hungary  and  many  elders,  he  went 
through  Flanders  and  visited  also  Dordrecht,  Bergen - 
op-Zoom,  Delft,  and  the  Hague.  On  September  27, 
1549,  all  Rotterdam  was  festal  and  decorated.  The 
people  were  out  in  their  best  clothes  to  see  their 
sovereign.  Amid  the  flags  and  flowers,  classic  em- 
blems, and  mythological  devices,  the  letters  P.  P. 
(Padre  de  la  Patria,  Father  of  his  Country)  were 
everywhere  seen.  At  night  were  torches  and  illu- 
mination. The  Burgomaster  and  Senate  of  Rotter- 
dam welcomed  their  prince  through  Erasmus  and  the 
Latin  language.  The  ultra-Romanist  of  Spain  and 
the  first  humanist  —  the  literary  king  of  Christen- 
dom —  stood  face  to  face.  The  next  morning  Philip 
attended  mass  in  the  cathedral,  which  had  then 
seventeen  altars,  the  grand  one  being  in  honor  of 
Mary  and  the  second  of  St.  Lawrence,  the  tutelary 
saint  of  the  city.  He  then  left  for  Delft  and  the 
Hague. 

Swiftly  sped  the  years,  fraught  with  events  of 
meaning.  Erasmus  died  at  Basle  in  1536.  The 
first  of  many  "  Anabaptists,"  Anneken  Jans  of  Briel, 
was  drowned  here  in  1539.  In  1549  a  wooden  im- 
age of  Erasmus  was  set  up  —  the  first  open-air  statue 
in  Holland.  The  Reformation  moved  swiftly.  Alva 
marched  into  the  Netherlands  in  1567.  On  the  12th 
of  November,  1572,  mass  was  performed  here  for  the 
last  time.     On  the  13th  the  altars  were  removed, 


314  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

and  on  the  14th  Domine  Kooltuin,  exiled  but  now 
returned,  preached.  The  wooden  statue  of  the  great 
humanist  was  replaced  by  one  of  blue  stone.  By 
this  time  Van  der  March  and  the  Beggars  of  the 
Sea  had  seized  Briel,  and  hoisted  the  flag  of  Orange. 

When  the  Spaniard,  Count  van  Bossu,  appeared 
at  the  gates  of  the  walled  city  to  march  through  and 
avenge  Briel,  he  perjured  himself.  Instead  of  send- 
ing in,  as  he  had  promised,  files  of  only  ten  men  at 
a  time,  he  let  loose  his  soldiers,  who  began  indis- 
criminate massacre,  hanging  men  in  their  doorways, 
or  chopping  to  pieces  human  beings  of  all  sizes  and 
sexes.  Zwart  Jan,  or  Black  John,  a  blacksmith,  re- 
sisted with  bloody  effect.  To-day  we  read  the  name 
of  this  hero  on  the  street  signs  and  tram-cars.  One 
clever  woman  smeared  the  blood  of  cats  on  the  door- 
posts of  a  house,  —  which  stood  until  1890.  The 
Spaniards,  seeing  the  red  sign  and  thinking  all  within 
were  slain,  passed  by.  The  inmates  were  saved,  but 
the  memory  of  their  feelings  before  and  during  this 
passover  survives  in  the  name  Huis  in  Duizend 
Vreezen,  —  "  House  of  a  Thousand  Fears."  At  No. 
3  in  the  Hang  —  a  fisherman's  street  named  from 
the  drying  nets  of  centuries  ago  —  we  see  the  site, 
though  now  things  only  of  personal  and  household 
comfort  are  sold  in  the  smart  new  shop. 

Bossu 's  bullies  peppered  the  stone  statue  of  Eras- 
mus with  arquebus  balls  and  then  tumbled  it  into 
the  canal,  where  it  lay  for  years.  In  1622  the  pre- 
sent bronze  effigy,  reproduced  from  a  painting,  was 
set  up.  There  are  inscriptions  at  each  of  the  four 
points  of  the  compass  relating  to  this  many  sided 


ROTTERDAM  315 

man,  "the  greatest  of  the  Batavian  name,"  and 
"the  overthrower  of  barbarism,"  as  the  north  side 
declares. 

The  inscription  on  the  sunny  side  may  thus  be 
Englished :  — 

"  Here  rose  the  great  sun  that  set  at  Basle.  Let 
the  metropolis  honor  and  celebrate  this  holy  man  in 
his  tomb.  The  city  which  gave  him  his  first  gives 
him  also  his  second  life.  Yet  the  luminary  of  lan- 
guages, the  salt  of  morals,  the  illustrious  paragon 
that  shone  in  charity,  peace,  and  theology  is  not  to 
be  honored  by  a  sepulchre,  or  rewarded  with  a  statue. 
The  empyrean  alone  must  overspread  Erasmus.  No 
other  place  is  worthy  to  be  his  temple.'* 

That  —  for  a  Dutchman  —  is  no  exaggeration. 
Erasmus  was  indeed  the  world's  citizen,  yet  the 
true  type  of  the  thinking  Dutchman  also.  The  in- 
tellectual temper  of  the  Dutch  nation,  as  the  long 
centuries  prove,  is  Erasmian,  not  Lutheran  or  Cal- 
vinistic.  Those  fruits  of  the  Dutch  mind  in  art  and 
literature  which  the  world  most  values  conform 
more  closely  to  the  Erasmian  than  to  any  other  type. 

"  Three  things  wait  not  for  man,"  says  the  Jap- 
anese proverb :  "  they  are  fading  flowers,  running 
rivers,  and  fleeting  years."  The  envious  flood  of 
time  has  dimmed  the  glory  of  Philip.  The  Dutch 
people,  unused  to  kings,  and  knowing  them  not 
in  Holland,  abjured  Philip,  tore  off  his  crown  of 
"P.  P.,"  and  saluted  William  of  Orange  as  Pater 
Patriae.  Here  in  this  city,  while  Leyden  was  belea- 
guered, he  lay  desperately  ill.  Here  also  he  cut  the 
dikes  which  flooded  the  country  and  floated  the  Zea- 


316  THE  AMERICAN  IN   HOLLAND 

land  boats  to  victory  and  rescue*  "  Better  a  ruined 
than  a  lost  land  "  were  his  words,  now  the  proverb. 

Nor  are  old  American  touch  and  association  lack- 
ing. From  Rotterdam  sailed  the  Dutch  companions 
of  Penn,  whose  mother,  as  before  remarked,  was 
born  here.  Down  out  of  the  Rhine  moved  the  Ger- 
man Palatinates  who  fled  from  persecution,  war,  or 
poverty,  making  Pennsylvania  their  Holy  Land. 
Myriads  more  have,  since  1783,  come  down  "the 
Rhine  route  "  through  Rotterdam  from  all  Germany 
to  freedom's  land.     Here  Longfellow's  wife  died. 

"Walking  through  the  city,  we  find  not  only  the 
house  of  Erasmus,  but  of  Spinola,  and  of  John  of 
Barneveldt,  who  lived  for  several  years  in  Lombard 
Street,  while  pensionary  of  Rotterdam.  The  Amer- 
ican notices  that  there  is  no  monument  to  him  in  all 
the  Netherlands,  though  here  in  his  native  city  is 
one  of  Hogendorp,  the  statesman  who  promoted  free 
trade,  and,  in  the  park,  one  of  Hendrik  ToUens,  the 
popular  patriotic  poet.  Besides  the  Museum,  rich  in 
art  galleries,  and  the  Zoological  Garden,  the  Park, 
and  the  Boompjes,  there  is  a  fascinating  interest 
in  watching  the  harbor  and  the  movements  of  the 
endlessly  busy  steamers  and  boats,  and  the  bridges 
opening  and  shutting,  while  the  church  chimes  make 
constant  music.  If  one  wishes  to  test  the  clearness 
of  the  air  on  a  fine  day  and  the  power  of  his  own 
vision,  let  him  climb  to  the  summit  of  the  cathedral 
tower  and  look  over  this  vast  landscape.  Threaded 
by  silvery  bands  of  water,  rivers  and  canals,  by  rows 
of  windmills  and  long  lines  of  shade  trees  covering 
the  brick  roads,  the  great  map  of  the  flat  country 


ROTTERDAM  317 

lies  before  him.  In  this  land  of  churches  the  towers 
of  Briel  and  Schiedam  to  the  east,  of  the  Hague 
and  Leyden  on  the  north,  of  Gouda  and  Dordrecht 
on  the  west,  and  of  the  smaller  towns  and  villages 
on  the  south,  are  grandly  visible. 

I  made  several  visits  to  Delfshaven,  and  met  the 
officers  of  the  little  Dutch  Reformed  church  facing 
the  canal,  past  which  the  Pilgrims  in  their  boats 
moved  while  on  their  way  to  the  Speedwell,  and 
where  a  beautiful  but  not  trustworthy  tradition  de- 
clares that  they  held  their  last  meeting  before  sailing 
away  to  America.  Nevertheless,  this  church  edifice, 
always  neat,  cool,  clean,  restful,  is  the  centre  of 
American  tourists  who  come  to  Delfshaven  to  study 
Pilgrim  origins,  or  to  refresh  ancestral  or  historic 
memories.    Here  is  a  book  for  signatures  of  visitors. 

The  painting,  possibly  contemporary  with  the  de- 
parture of  the  Pilgrims  from  Delfshaven,  which  Mr. 
George  H.  Boughton,  the  Royal  Academician,  has 
found,^  is  all  the  more  truthful  and  authentic,  be- 
cause so  radically  different  from  the  fancies  conjured 
up  in  later  days,  through  the  untempered  eulogies 
and  flamboyant  rhetoric  of  Forefathers'  Day.  The 
long  confusion,  even  in  the  American  mind,  between 
Puritan  and  Pilgrim  has  helped  to  deepen  the  abyss 
between  notions  and  realities.  Mr.  Boughton  thinks 
this  picture  was  made  by  one  or  both  of  the  Cuyps, 
father  and  son.  Along  with  other  marks  of  genuine- 
ness is  the  fact  that  the  river  Maas  shows  a  clear 
space  of  water  unvexed  by  any  island  at  this  point ; 
whereas,  since  1620,  and  mostly  within  the  past  cen- 
1  See  The  Pilgrims  in  their  Three  Homes. 


318  THE    AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

tury,  there  has  formed  the  great  long  island  called 
the  Riuge  Plaat,  which  is  now  cut  in  the  centre 
by  a  sluice  directly  opposite  the  point  whence  the 
Speedwell  sailed.  Thus  a  passenger  on  the  incom- 
ing or  outgoing  steamer  of  the  Holland-America 
line  can  look  up  the  historic  canal  and  into  the 
heart  of  Delfshaven.  The  tree-lined  street  running 
the  whole  length  of  the  island,  along  the  river  front, 
is  now  called  Pelgrim  Kade,  or  Pilgrim's  Quay. 
This  name  was  given  in  1892,  under  the  magistracy 
of  my  friend  Lycklama  a  Nyeholt,  when  he  was 
burgomaster  of  Rotterdam. 

Better  than  all  the  letters  of  introduction  with 
which  I  was  supplied  from  political  or  commercial 
dignitaries,  for  getting  acquainted  with  charming 
Dutch  people,  was  my  own  companion  in  travel. 
Lyra's  winsome  ways  opened  many  a  door  into  the 
homes  of  this  home-loving  people.  Often  acquaint- 
ance came  through  a  pleasant  surprise.  In  1891, 
while  equipping  in  one  of  the  Rotterdam  shops  for 
ten  days'  life  on  the  deck  of  the  steamer  Veendam, 
Lyra's  tongue  ran  to  the  end  of  her  French  and 
German,  and  mine  of  my  Dutch.  A  cessation  of 
business  in  that  shop  threatened,  when  a  tastefully 
dressed  and  pretty  young  lady,  also  a  purchaser, 
came  with  the  right  word  to  our  relief.  Besides 
help  so  pleasantly  given  and  so  gratefully  received, 
there  began  with  this  fair  Rotterdammer  an  ac- 
quaintance which  not  only  opened  one  hospitable 
home  in  the  quarter  of  Witte  de  With  Straat,  but 
also,  on  later  visits,  homes  in  other  provinces  and 
cities. 


ROTTERDAM  319 

Other  pleasant  memories  of  various  friends  in 
Rotterdam  include  a  scholarly  Dutch  family,  attend- 
ant upon  the  Scottish  church,  under  whose  roof  I 
lodged  and  boarded  for  a  week,  enjoying  for  several 
hours'  daily  reading,  with  father  or  son,  Busken 
Huet's  fascinating  essays  in  his  matchless  "  Littera- 
rische  Fantasien  en  Kritieken."  Of  all  modern 
Dutch  writers,  I  enjoy  most  the  style  of  the  author 
of  "  Het  Land  Van  Rembrand "  and  "  Het  Land 
Van  Rubens." 

Though  this  is  the  first  commercial  city  of  the 
kingdom,  and  here  are  gathered  the  men  of  trade, 
yet  in  Rotterdam,  even  more  than  in  some  other 
Dutch  cities,  I  get  a  true  perspective  of  the  history 
of  the  country.  The  street  names  and  those  of  the 
quays  and  waterways  are  as  windows,  out  of  which 
one  can  look  down  the  past.  Even  some  of  the  old 
shop  signs,  like  that  of  the  Oude  Graf  (Old  Count), 
help  to  make  the  past  full  of  vividness  and  color. 
When  settled  government  came  to  this  region,  after 
the  welter  and  ooze  of  the  Middle  Ages,  there  were, 
in  succession,  six  different  dynasties,  or  "  stamhui- 
zen,"  as  the  Dutch  call  them. 

The  Counts  of  Holland  (sixteen  counts  and  one 
countess)  ruled  from  the  year  923  to  1299,  or  from 
Count  Dirk  First  to  Jan,  who  left  no  issue. 

Then  followed  the  dynasty  of  Hainault,  or  of 
Henegouwen,  who  furnished  three  counts  and  one 
countess.  When  Margeritha,  wife  of  Louis  of  Ba- 
varia, abdicated  in  favor  of  her  son  William  V.  of 
Bavaria,  in  1349,  there  came  upon  the  scene  the 
dynasty  of  Bavaria. 


320  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

In  the  Bavarian  line  were  three  counts  and  one 
countess,  the  latter  being  the  unfortunate  Jacque- 
line, who  transferred  her  rights  to  Philip  the  Good, 
Duke  of  Burgundy. 

The  Burgundian  dynasty  ruled  for  fifty  years. 
After  two  counts  and  the  Countess  Maria  had 
died,  the  inheritance  passed  over  to  the  dynasty  of 
Austria. 

The  Austrian  house  held  power  over  the  Nether- 
landers  for  eighty-six  years.  In  this  line  were  the 
Emperor  Charles  V.  and  Philip  II.,  King  of  Spain. 

Against  Philip  II.,  led  by  William  of  Orange, 
the  Dutch  raised  the  flag  of  revolt.  From  1568  the 
House  of  Orange-Nassau  furnished  rulers  who  were 
princes  in  their  own  right,  but  in  the  Dutch  Re- 
public were  stadholders  or  presidents.  From  1579 
until  1794,  except  during  the  twenty  years  when  the 
stadholderate  was  abolished  and  John  de  Witt  was 
grand  pensionary,  the  Dutch  rulers  were  of  the 
House  of  Orange.  The  Republic  fell  in  1794,  under 
the  invasion  of  the  French,  who  first  under  the 
form  of  the  Batavian  Republic,  and  then  of  the 
Kingdom  of  Holland,  had  control  of  the  Nether- 
lands. In  1814  "  the  Dutch  took  Holland,"  drove 
out  the  invaders,  and  formed  a  national  constitution. 
Then  they  invited  the  princes  of  Orange  to  be  kings 
or  constitutional  executives.  At  the  present  day 
Queen  Wilhelmina  reigns,  by  the  grace  of  God  and 
the  love  of  her  people. 

In  Rotterdam,  too,  I  confess  breathing  in  the  at- 
mosphere of  patriotism  with  the  Dutch  and  feeling 
with  them  the  glow  of  their  patriotic  songs,  for  in 


ROTTERDAM  321 

this  city  I  have  helped  to  celebrate,  more  than  once, 
the  Queen's  birthday.  In  the  grand  cathedral,  with 
its  marble-pillared  organ,  its  5084  pipes  and  73 
stops  and  its  trumpeting  angel,  in  the  churches  and 
on  the  streets,  I  have  been  thrilled  with  the  words 
and  music  of  the  national  hymns,  such  as  the  "  Wil- 
helmus  Lied,"  the  "  Flag  Song,"  the  "  Song  of  the 
Beggars  of  the  Sea,"  and  others.  These  I  have  be- 
fore me  in  that  handy  collection,  the  "  Nederlandsch 
Volksliederenboek,"  published,  as  so  many  other 
good  things  are,  for  the  people,  by  the  Dutch  Soci- 
ety for  the  General  Welfare. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

GOUDA,    OUDEWATER,   AND   WOERDEN 

It  was  a  hot,  close,  muggy  day,  June  29,  when 
Lyra  and  I  visited  Gouda.  The  barometer,  the 
clouds,  and  I  am  not  certain  but  our  spirits,  were 
low.  General  humidity  commanded  everybody  and 
everything.  We  came  by  the  railway,  but  not  to  buy 
pipes.  Many  Dutch  settlers  in  America,  and  also 
the  Holland  Society  in  New  York,  send  to  Gouda  for 
both  the  baked  clay  and  the  twisted  tobacco,  which 
they  use  especially  at  their  banquets.  In  winter 
the  young  Rotterdammers  of  frisky  spirits  skate 
on  the  ice  from  the  larger  to  the  smaller  city.  As 
their  errand  is  to  purchase  a  package  of  pipes,  so  is 
their  ambition  to  reach  home  again  without  break- 
ing one  of  them.  They  proudly  keep  the  long  and 
straight  "  church  warden  "  or  the  coiled-up  snake- 
like style  intact,  as  proofs  of  skill  on  steel. 

For  many  centuries  Gouda  has  made  its  name 
famous  for  skill  in  plain  keramics.  Taking  appro- 
priate material  from  the  muddy  bed  of  the  river 
Ijssel,  the  Gouda  artisans  change  it  by  the  aid  of  fire 
into  all  sorts  of  earthenware,  —  pots,  pans,  pitch- 
ers, cups,  beakers,  pipes  by  the  million,  and  bricks 
by  the  billion.  Although  Gouda  makes  cheese,  this 
is  not,  any  more  than  that  of  Leyden,  to  be  eaten 


GOUDA,  OUDEWATER,  AND  WOERDEN     323 

when  the  Edam  product  is  at  hand ;  but  for  her 
pipes  and  bricks,  Gouda  shall  be  ever  famous.  The 
primeval  clay  brought  from  the  continental  moun- 
tains, ground,  seasoned,  and  made  tenacious  by  long 
rolling  in  the  Khine  trough  hundreds  of  miles  long, 
is  deposited  ready  for  use  in  front  of  the  town. 
When  well  burned,  the  product  can  resist  ages  of 
gnawing  by  the  tooth  of  time. 

Centuries  ago,  Gouda,  like  Schiedam,  won  repu- 
tation for  even  a  nobler  task  than  that  of  transform- 
ing mud  into  things  of  use  and  beauty.  Here  "  the 
art  preservative  of  all  arts  "  found  one  of  its  first 
homes  in  Europe.  Rich  and  rare  are  the  treasures 
which  bear  on  their  title-pages  the  names  of  the 
printers  in  this  town,  which  had  types  before  it  had 
pipes.  Oddly  enough  what  first  catches  the  eye, 
when  we  open  an  old  Gouda  "  incunabulum,"  or  cra- 
dle book,  is  the  figure  of  an  elephant.  We  wonder 
why  the  animal  is  there,  and  what  association  of 
ideas  prompted  the  use  of  such  a  token.  If  we  were 
Hindoos,  the  elephant  and  his  "howda"  would 
have  the  same  mental  wedding  as  horse  and  saddle. 
Where  is  the  American  who  ever  pronounced  cor- 
rectly the  Dutch  initial  g  f  Yet  to  pronounce  the 
Indian  word  "  howda  "  is  to  speak  with  very  nearly 
local  accuracy  the  name  of  the  Dutch  city.  This 
sufficiently  close  resemblance  in  sound  between 
"  Gouda  "  and  "  howda  "  (especially  as  pronounced 
by  Dutchmen)  struck  pleasantly  upon  the  ears  of  the 
novelty -loving  Dutch  printers,  in  the  first  joy  and 
exultation  of  their  craft.  As  Dr.  Campbell,  the 
historian  of  early  Netherlands  printing,  tells  us,  an 


324  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

elephant  was  exhibited  through  Holland  about  the 
time  that  the  first  Gouda  printing-presses  were 
set  up. 

What  shall  we  say  between  the  Dutch  and  the 
Germans,  both  of  whom  claim  the  invention  of  print- 
ing? Was  Coster  or  Gutenberg  the  first  maker 
and  user  of  movable  types  ?  Or,  indeed,  was  either  ? 
What  if  printing  be  proved  an  evolution  ?  It  is 
certain  that  the  Koreans  made  and  used  movable, 
or,  as  they  say,  "  living  "  types  centuries  before  the 
Europeans.  The  collection  of  their  books  thus 
printed  and  now  in  the  British  Museum  shows  this. 
It  is  quite  probable,  too,  that  the  Mongols  brought 
the  art  from  the  far  East  into  Europe.  The  long 
controversy  between  Van  der  Linde,  a  Dutchman  in 
Germany,  who  ridicules  the  Coster  legend,  and  of 
Hessels,  a  Dutchman  in  England,  who  has  proved 
Gutenberg  an  early  user,  but  not  the  inventor,  of 
the  art,  shows  that  the  proof  of  European  initiative 
has  not  been  made  out.  Yet  while  the  Koreans 
and  Chinese  employed  iron,  lead,  or  terra-cotta,  the 
Europeans  added  antimony,  and  thus  secured  full 
faces  and  sharp  lines. 

Whether  inventors,  improvers,  or  borrowers,  the 
Dutch  were  among  the  first  to  make  the  art  popu- 
lar. Their  country  became  the  printing-office  of 
Europe,  for  they  made  printing  free,  whereas,  in 
England  the  privilege  was  a  government  monopoly 
like  coinage,  and  infraction  a  felony.  In  Holland 
no  Milton  was  needed  to  utter  a  seraphic  plea. 
The  Anabaptists,  the  Bible  translators,  the  Inde- 
pendents, the  forerunners  of  the  English  Common- 


GOUDA,  OUDEWATER,  AND  WOERDEN      325 

wealth,  in  short  the  makers  of  the  England  we 
honor,  had  all  to  come  to  Holland  and  here  found  a 
free  press,  to  provide  light  for  darkness  and  ammu- 
nition for  the  bombardment  of  bigotry  and  tyranny. 
The  printers  dealt  the  death-blow  to  that  mediaeval 
theology  which  had  broken  the  continuity  of  ancient 
and  modern  life  and  thought.  As  terrible  as  were 
gunpowder  and  bullets  to  feudalism,  so  were  the 
types  to  kings  and  prelates.  Best  of  all,  printing 
made  the  Christian  acquainted  with  the  sources  of 
his  own  religion,  and  emptied  the  monastery  and 
priestcraft  of  their  meaning,  leaving  thrones  a 
shadow.  Having  bridged  the  gulf  between  the  mod- 
ern and  the  ancient,  it  is  now  helping  gloriously  in 
reconciling  the  West  and  the  East,  Europe  and  Asia. 

Many  soldiers  were  marching  in  Gouda  on  the 
day  of  our  visit,  which  was  that  of  some  Eoman 
Catholic  festival.  Beautiful  were  the  great  fat  trees, 
interesting  was  the  town  hall,  sweet  were  the  chimes 
of  the  great  church.  In  the  town  museum  the 
golden  chalice  and  the  paten,  which  the  Countess 
Jacqueline  presented  to  the  Shooters'  Guild  in  the 
fifteenth  century,  were  worth  seeing.  Yet  neither 
for  pipes,  printing,  painters,  nor  relics  did  we  come 
to  Gouda ;  none  of  these  was  a  magnet.  The 
"  lions "  we  were  hunting  were  translucent,  for 
Gouda  preserves  such  splendors  of  stained  glass 
made  by  native  artists  as  no  other  town  in  the  king- 
dom can  show.  Here  wrought  the  brothers,  Wouter 
and  Dirk  Crabeth,  during  the  twenty-two  years 
from  1555  to  1577. 

Entering  the  great  church,  a  superb  specimen  of 


326  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

the  architecture  of  the  later  Middle  Ages,  we  note 
the  round  arches,  held  up  by  thirty-six  circular  col- 
umns. The  ceiling  is  of  wood  stained  dark  with 
time.  Many  were  the  triumphs  of  glass  staining  in 
the  Netherlands  during  the  sixteenth  century,  but 
in  the  churches  few  of  the  grand  windows  were 
spared  by  the  Iconoclasts.  Here,  however,  are  forty- 
two  windows,  the  gifts  of  princes,  municipalities, 
and  private  individuals.  In  the  older  windows  the 
subjects  are  taken  from  the  Bible.  The  figures  of 
saints  or  of  the  donors  are  mixed  in  or  are  attached 
to  armorial  bearings  or  allegorical  representations. 
Those  representing  Solomon  and  the  Queen  of 
Sheba,  Judith  and  Holofernes,  the  Last  Supper, 
Punishment  of  Heliodorus  the  desecrator  of  the 
Temple,  the  Preaching  of  John  the  Baptist,  and  the 
Baptism  of  Christ,  seemed  to  us  the  finest.  Philip 
II.  of  Spain  presented  the  "  Last  Supper  "  window, 
and  among  the  faces  one  can  discern  his  portrait. 
William  of  Orange  made  a  gift  of  "  Christ  Driving 
the  Money-changers  out  of  the  Temple." 

Gouda  boasts  of  her  two  sons,  Cornelius  and 
Frederik  Houtman,  the  former  of  whom  in  his  tire- 
less energy  founded  the  East  Indian  trade,  which  so 
enriched  the  kingdom  during  two  centuries.  The 
national  gratitude  is  shown  in  two  statues  in  bronze 
by  Netherland's  popular  sculptor,  Strackde,  of  Am- 
sterdam. 

I  had  much  the  same  curiosity  to  visit  two  other 
towns  near  Gouda  which  the  American-born  Irish- 
man felt  to  see  Ireland,  and  to  find  out  for  himseK 
whether  there  were  any  snakes  there,  in  order  to 


GOUDA,  OUDEWATER,  AND  WOERDEN     327 

do  sincere  and  personal  homage  to  St.  Patrick. 
When  once  at  a  dinner  of  Dutch  gentlemen,  I  heard 
a  certain  town  spoken  of  as  being  "  as  dull  as  Oude- 
water."  Curiosity  was  strong  to  prove  whether  after 
all  Oudewater  deserved  the  booby  prize  of  Dutch 
dullness.  The  question  is  still  unanswered,  for  I 
did  not  mount  the  steam  tram  for  Old  Water  town. 

Not  far  away  is  Bodegraven,  the  name  of  which 
one  reads  in  advertisements  of  liquors  all  over  the 
kingdom. 

It  was  in  Oudewater  that  the  great  theologian 
Arminius  was  born,  though  he  lived  as  professor  in 
Leyden.  He  certainly  made  things  lively  enough 
in  Holland  and  the  theological  world.  He  was  a 
veritable  Leyden  jar  for  emitting  shocks  and  sparks. 
His  name  was  Henry  Herman,  which  he,  according 
to  the  fashion  set  by  Tacitus  over  fourteen  hundred 
years  before,  Latinized  as  Arminius.  His  followers 
in  the  Netherlands  are  called  Remonstrants,  though 
in  England  and  America  they  are  known  as  Armin- 
ians.  When  he  was  but  fifteen  years  old,  fortu- 
nately away  at  school  in  Marburg,  the  Spaniards 
took  Oudewater  and  massacred  all  his  relatives. 
Amsterdam  was  proud  to  call  this  precocious  orphan 
her  foster-child.  As  professor  in  the  new  Leyden 
University,  Arminius  broke  the  dogmatic  bonds  of 
Roman  theology,  as  forged  first  by  Augustine  and 
then  by  Calvin,  and  gave  the  first  impetus  to  those 
Christians  who  have  since  become  by  evolution  the 
largest  Protestant  denomination  in  America,  —  even 
as  Herman,  whom  the  Romans  called  Arminius, 
smote  off  the  chains  of  Roman  dominion  and  opened 


328  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

to  nobler  development  the  Teutonic  race  and  world. 
Great  indeed  are  the  figures  of  the  early  and  the 
later  Arminius,  the  one  of  Teutoberg  and  the  other 
of  Leyden.  The  series  of  events  in  both  these 
places  forms  landmarks  in  the  world's  history.  Lit- 
tle Oudewater  has  a  picture  in  the  Stadhuis  showing 
the  awful  excesses  committed  by  the  Spaniards  in 
1575.  After  the  siege  of  eighteen  days,  humanity 
of  all  ages  and  sexes  was  turned  into  carrion.  The 
wives  and  maidens  spared  from  the  sword  were  sold 
by  auction  to  the  soldiers. 

At  Woerden,  in  the  little  corner  of  South  Holland 
on  the  old  Khine,  I  arrived  in  the  dewy  freshness 
of  early  morning.  Butter,  cheese,  pigs,  and  things 
animate  and  inanimate  were  changing  owners,  for 
it  was  market  day.  The  women  in  their  costumes 
and  head-dresses  seemed  as  gayly  colored  as  the 
flowers  which  they  were  selling.  The  town  still 
keeps  the  outlines  of  its  old  walls  and  fortifications. 
Formerly  it  was  a  fortress.  Voltaire  has  described, 
in  his  usual  brilliant  and  incisive  style,  how  it  was 
"  taken  by  Louis  XIV."  This  mighty  sham  had  a 
habit  of  making  his  commanders  keep  him  informed 
as  to  when  a  besieged  city  was  about  to  fall,  so  that 
he  might  appear  on  the  spot  in  the  nick  of  time  and 
thus  seem  to  be  the  actual  conqueror.  Before  this 
awful  devastator  of  Germany  and  HoUand  thou- 
sands of  German  peasants  fled  down  the  Rhine  and 
took  ship  at  Rotterdam  to  find  refuge  and  peace  in 
Pennsylvania,  —  the  German-American's  Holy  Land. 
What  a  contrast  in  character  and  purpose,  as  be- 
tween the  tiger  and  the  ox,  is  that  between  Louis 


GOUDA,  OUDEWATER,  AND  WOERDEN     329 

XIV.  and  William  Penn,  or  between  the  French 
Grand  Monarch  and  the  Dutch  Constitutional  ruler 
of  England ! 

Woerden,  like  many  other  towns  in  this  little 
country  on  which  the  great  powers  have  repeatedly 
tried  to  trample,  has  a  long  story  of  bad  fortune. 
It  was  captured  and  plundered  by  the  French,  when 
the  Dutch  tried  in  1813  to  possess  their  own  city 
and  country. 

Over  two  hundred  towns  or  communities  in  South 
Holland  have  "  wapen,"  or  arms.  Those  of  Oude- 
water  show  lions,  crown  and  shield,  with  tower  and 
uplifted  portcullis.  Bodegraven's  recalls  its  story 
and  meaning  of  "  earth-dug,"  by  two  spades  crossed 
through  a  beehive  on  its  shield  under  a  crown  and 
wreath.  Woerden's  shield  bears  three  diamonds. 
Besides  Gouda's  stars  and  stripes  are  twisted 
branches  of  thorns,  and,  beneath,  its  motto,  "  Per 
aspera  ad  astra,"  and  a  lozenge.  Many  a  pretty 
story  lies  hidden  in  these  symbols  of  organized  social 
life. 

From  time  to  time  in  this  old  land  the  witnesses 
and  object-lessons  of  history  troop  forth  out  of  their 
graves  to  delight  the  student.  In  the  days  when 
the  Spaniard  and  the  Inquisition  were  in  the  land, 
"  hedge-preaching  "  was  the  custom.  Between  Gouda 
and  Alphen  is  the  little  village  of  Boskoop,  which 
recently  revealed  some  eloquent  reminders.  On 
taking  down  the  old  church  tower,  they  found  five 
small  manuals  of  religion.  One  of  the  booklets  was 
named  "  Some  Psalms  and  Other  Hymns  in  use  in 
the  Christian   Community   in   these   Netherlands.'* 


330  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

The  very  title  had  disappeared  from  all  known  re- 
cords. Yet  fourteen  of  the  pieces,  seven  psalms  and 
seven  hymns,  are  the  same  as  in  a  collection  of 
twenty-five  used  by  Dutch  refugees  in  London,  who 
at  Austin  Friars  formed  what  is  now  the  oldest, 
as  it  was  the  first  regularly  organized,  Keformed 
Protestant  Dutch  Churchy 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

THE  CITY  OF  GROTIUS  AND  ORANGE 

From  the  Hague  one  can  ride  by  rail  to  Delft 
in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  but  he  can  see  more  of 
the  country  by  going  on  the  tram,  passing  through 
Rijswijk.  Delft,  in  name  and  in  history,  is  one  of 
the  most  ancient  of  Dutch  cities.  So  far  back  as  the 
eleventh  century  there  was  a  flourishing  town  here 
named  Delft,  that  is,  the  delved  or  dug-out  place.  It 
had  dikes  and  canals.  Further  south,  on  the  Maas 
River,  was  its  water-port  or  haven ;  that  is.  Delft's 
haven.  The  little  stream  of  water  which  was  after- 
ward made  into  a  straight  canal  flowed  through 
Schie-land,  and  it  was  easy  to  reach  Delft  from  the 
sea.  While  there  are  other  places  called  Delf,  or 
Delft,  in  the  Netherlands,  this  is  the  Delft,  oldest 
and  most  honorable  of  all. 

Its  world-wide  name  and  fame  have  been  given  it 
indirectly  through  Japan,  which  is  the  sun,  while 
Delft  is  as  the  moon,  a  reflection.  For,  while  earth- 
enware was  made  here  back  in  the  Middle  Ages, 
and  already  had  a  reputation  well  established  before 
the  triumphant  Republic  began  its  career  in  1579, 
yet  it  was  not  until  the  opening  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  when  commercial  relations  were  begun  with 
the  Japanese  duarchy,  that  the  blue  porcelain   of 


332  THE  AMERICAN   IN   HOLLAND 

Seto,  Japan,  was  copied  here,  giving  "Delft  ware" 
its  European  fame.  As  in  old  Tycoon  land  the  name 
of  the  village  of  Seto  was  in  ordinary  speech  a 
common  noun,  meaning  blue  and  white  ware,  "  Se- 
tomono,"  so  Delft  soon  came  to  mean  that  "blue 
china  "  up  to  which  everybody  was  expected  to  live, 
and  whose  ballads,  proverbs,  and  pictures  have  been 
famed  in  literature  and  art.  Curiously  enough,  in 
Europe,  "  china  "  is  porcelain  and  "  japan  "  is  var- 
nish. The  Dutchman  gave  up  the  old  glaze  made 
of  tin  oxide,  and  put  on  the  porous  clay,  or  biscuit, 
a  non-metallic  mineral  glaze  imitated  from  the  Jap- 
anese. Just  as  the  early  Dutch  printers  tried  to 
make  their  print  look  as  much  like  writing  as  possi- 
ble, so  the  Delft  decorators  for  a  long  time  labored 
with  Chinese-like  patience  to  plant  the  Nankin  wil- 
low, paint  perspectiveless  landscapes,  build  bridges 
up  in  the  air  over  invisible  rivers,  and  grow  apples 
that  were  always  provokingly  round.  They  even 
painted  in  the  pagodas  and  mournful  tombs,  with 
the  two  love  birds  that  incarnated  the  spirits  of  the 
Chinese  Vilikins  and  his  Dinah.  Many  specimens 
of  this  ware,  in  indigo  blue  and  dazzling  lustre,  still 
exist.  To-day  "old  Delft,"  genuine  and  authenti- 
cated, is  worth  its  weight  in  silver. 

Yet  the  Dutch  had  too  much  common  sense,  and 
were  too  matter-of-fact  people,  or,  we  may  say,  were 
too  original,  to  continue  as  slavish  imitators.  To 
them  the  landscapes  of  the  Middle  Kingdom  were 
either  impossible  in  fact  or  unintelligible  to  the 
mind.  The  Japanese  drawings,  though  truer  to  na- 
ture, did  not  satisfy.     So  they  gave  up  reproducing 


THE  CITY  OF  GROTIUS  AND  ORANGE     333 

daimios'  crests,  Buddhist  symbolism,  the  oriental 
forms  of  vegetable  and  animal  life,  and  the  whole 
pagan  repertoire.  Forthwith  they  proceeded  first 
to  make  Bibles  in  porcelain,  and  then  to  use  the 
silicated  surfaces  as  canvas  to  preserve  and  make 
popular  their  own  art.  They  wrought  out  in  blue 
and  white  the  whole  story  from  Adam  and  Eve 
down  to  the  Descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost  at  Pentecost. 
They  were  not  averse  to  retaining,  as  do  the  Ro- 
man and  Anglican  churches,  the  apocryphal  stories. 
They  transferred  the  most  popular  of  all  their  books, 
"The  Mirror  of  Human  Salvation,''  from  print  to 
porcelain.  All  over  Europe  and  in  the  old  and  New 
Netherland,  Dutch  tiles  were  famous,  becoming  at 
the  fireplace  the  horn-book  of  art,  literature,  and 
theology  to  thousands.  Then  for  a  while  the  great 
industry  fell  into  decay.  In  our  time  it  has  been 
revived  most  gloriously.  The  dainty  and  accurate 
reproductions  in  blue  of  the  portraits  and  genre 
pictures  of  their  own  great  artists  now  beautify  the 
walls  of  homes  aU  over  the  world. 

On  the  last  of  several  visits,  in  1895,  I  found 
Delft  amazingly  quiet,  but  this  accorded  with  my 
mood.  The  canals  were  remarkably  clean,  the  lime 
trees  healthy  and  well  clipped.  There  are  fine  old 
facades  and  one  or  two  handsome  old  city  gates  left 
from  the  days  of  walls  and  towers,  when  both  muni- 
cipalities and  theological  ideas  were  well  fenced  in. 
Like  so  many  of  its  sister  cities,  Delft  bears  the 
scars  of  gunpowder  explosions. 

Delft,  or  "  Delleft,''  as  the  natives  say,  is  at  the 
present  day  noted  for  its  distillation  of  the  "  Dutch 


334  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Eau  de  Cologne,"  for  its  beer,  and  now,  as  for  cen- 
turies past,  for  its  hardware.  Was  not  the  May- 
flower saved  by  a  bit  of  Delft  iron  ?  When  in  mid- 
ocean,  her  timbers  strained  and  her  main  beam 
sprung  from  its  socket  by  the  storm,  did  not  some 
one  on  board  produce  "  a  great  iron  screw,  the  pas- 
sengers had  brought  out  of  Holland,  which  would 
raise  the  beam  into  his  place  "  ?  So  says  Bradford 
in  his  history.  The  timber  was  held  together  to 
the  vessel's  side  and,  with  a  post  set  under  it,  the 
danger  avoided.  This  screw  was  most  probably  the 
"  vyzel "  or  "  domme-kracht,"  called  by  us  the  jack- 
screw,  the  forerunner  of  the  monkey-wrench. 

From  the  sixteenth  century  the  famous  Polytech- 
nic School  has  been  established  here.  It  is  one  of 
the  very  oldest  in  Europe,  certainly  one  of  the  first 
to  teach  that  the  science  of  engineering  belongs  of 
right  to  the  learned  professions,  and  that  mastery 
of  the  mechanical  forces  is  among  the  noblest  of 
acquisitions. 

Here  studied  Maurice,  the  engineer  and  master 
of  war,  who  prepared  the  way  for  Vauban  and  Coe- 
horn.  Bunker  Hill,  Grant,  and  Lee. 

The  marketplace  is  large  and  open.  One  side  is 
lined  with  shops  for  the  sale  of  blue  and  white 
faience.  Toward  the  west  is  the  city  hall,  which 
contains  some  pictures  by  M.  J.  Mierevelt,  one  of 
the  very  first,  in  point  of  time,  of  the  Dutch  portrait 
painters.  They  are  "corporation  pictures,"  which, 
despite  their  faults,  show  how  grandly  the  Dutch 
artists  led  Europe  in  delineating  the  human  face. 
Mierevelt,  though  less   fascinating  a  limner   than 


THE  CITY  OF  GROTIUS  AND  ORANGE      335 

Frans  Hals,  is  yet  one  of  the  best.  Both  father  and 
son  of  this  name  were  born  in  Delft.  Among  the 
pictures  of  stadholders  and  princes  is  one  of  Ernst 
Casimir  of  Nassau,  after  whom  the  fort  built  on  the 
Delaware  was  named ;  another,  of  the  Bohemian 
king,  Frederick  V.,  about  whom  G.  P.  R.  James  the 
romancer  has  written ;  and  another,  of  Grotius. 

Out  in  the  sunshine,  in  front  of  the  church,  mid- 
way between  Church  and  State,  so  to  speak,  I  saw 
the  splendid  bronze  statue,  by  Strackee,  of  one  who 
wished  to  keep  both  Church  and  State  united.  The 
writings  of  Hugo  de  Groot,  or  Grotius,  both  in  juris- 
prudence and  theology,  have  been  amazingly  influ- 
ential, especially  upon  American  life.  He  was  the 
awakener  of  the  conscience  of  humanity.  His  book 
on  the  laws  of  nations  is  a  classic  believed  to  have 
done  more  good  on  this  planet,  in  promoting  national 
ethics  and  in  fostering  the  growth  of  a  world-con- 
science, than  any  other  work,  except  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures. Set  in  the  white  marble  in  the  pavement, 
around  the  statue,  are  four  Dutch  words,  meaning 
"  Let  each  one  walk  with  God." 

Who  does  not  know  his  story,  —  of  the  wonderful 
precociousness  of  this  Leyden  student,  of  his  per- 
sonal influence  in  provincial  and  national  councils, 
how  he  was  arrested  with  Barneveldt  and  sent  along 
with  Hoogerbeets  to  that  Dutch  Bastile,  the  castle 
of  Louvenstein,  and  how  his  devoted  wife,  daughter 
of  the  burgomaster  of  Veere,  set  him  free,  by  the 
artifice  of  substituting  him  for  Arminian  books  in  a 
great  box  ?  Then  she  occupied  his  place  in  the  cell, 
while  he  was  carried  out  of  prison  and  beyond  the 


336  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

frontiers  to  freedom.  Grotius  exalted  the  human 
will  and  power,  as  did  Arminius.  He  lent  his  polit- 
ical influence  to  the  Arminian  movement,  as  did 
Barneveldt.  In  Paris  he  was  the  centre  of  a  court 
of  learned  men,  and  there  wrote  his  world-influen- 
cing book,  "  The  Laws  of  Nations."  His  "  Defense 
of  the  Christian  Religion  "  was  read  by  all  classes, 
from  sailors  and  fishermen  in  their  boats  and  farmers 
by  their  peat  fires,  to  princes  of  learning  and  digni- 
taries in  Church  and  State.  Grotius,  the  lawyer, 
wrought  out  the  lawyer-like  "  governmental  "  theory 
of  the  Atonement  which  has  been  the  basis  of  New 
England  theology.  Not  only  did  the  founders  of 
Massachusetts  import  from  Holland  grand  ideas  for 
the  founding  of  states,  but  also  theological  dogmas 
elaborated  by  a  Christian  lawyer.  By  these  the 
minds  of  the  New  England  clergy  have  been  moulded 
for  generations.  While  Princeton  has  professedly 
been  the  seat  of  the  old  Genevan,  Gomarist,  or  Dor- 
drecht theology,  called  "  pure  Calvinism,"  Andover 
is  the  centre  of  that  modified,  or  "  provincial,"  form 
of  the  system  first  formulated  by  Calvin,  but  which 
under  Edwards,  Bellamy,  Edmunds,  and  Park  be- 
came something  "  new  and  strange."  Hence  the 
intellectual  sparks  struck  out  in  the  collision  of  ideas 
taught  in  these  rival  schools.  No  danger  of  the  fire 
of  interest  dying  out,  while  such  flint  and  steel  exist. 
The  curved  lines  of  beauty  are  absent  for  the 
most  part  from  the  thoroughfares  and  moats  of  Delft, 
and  as  a  rule  the  streets  resemble  the  line  of  duty. 
We  pass  under  balconies,  flower  and  vine  laden, 
and  on  the  Oude  Delft  come  to  the  Prinsen  Hof, 


THE  CITY  OF  GROTIUS  AND  ORANGE      337 

that  is,  the  Prince's  Court.  In  Delft,  and  most  of 
the  time  in  this  edifice,  the  Father  of  the  Fatherland 
spent  the  greater  part  of  his  time  after  1579,  and 
here  on  the  10th  of  July,  1584,  the  pistol  of  the 
fanatic  and  assassin,  Balthasar  Gerard,  took  his  life. 

Let  no  one  suppose  that  the  hole  in  the  wall  once 
made  by  the  bullet  represents  the  actual  calibre  of 
the  weapon.  From  its  size,  enlarged  by  the  finger- 
nails of  the  curious  during  many  generations,  it 
looks  as  though  a  grapeshot  or  ball  from  some  rapid 
firing  gun  had  pierced  the  plaster.  Unlike  Lincoln 
or  Garfield,  who  were  shot  by  cowardly  scoundrels 
in  the  rear,  the  Father  of  the  Fatherland  was  aimed 
at  from  the  front.  Long  used  as  a  military  bar- 
racks, the  house  and  room  are  now  the  repositories 
of  every  precious  relic  associated  with  the  memory 
of  "  the  Moderate  Man  of  the  Sixteenth  Century," 
who  believed  that  Catholics  and  Protestants  could 
live  together  in  peace,  and  that  even  Anabaptists 
should  be  tolerated.  William  was  an  American  in 
spirit  when  the  United  States  were  not  even  in  em- 
bryo. It  has  been  reserved  for  a  woman,  a  graduate 
of  Cornell  University,  Miss  Ruth  Putnam,  to  give 
us,  from  his  own  letters,  the  best  picture  in  print  of 
William  of  Orange. 

The  chimes  peal  out  merrily  as  we  leave  the  relics 
in  oak,  glass,  steel,  and  paper,  and  move  over  to  the 
Oude  Kerk,  inside  of  which  are  the  memorials  of 
mighty  victors  both  in  peace  and  war.  Here  lies  in 
marble  Maarten  Tromp,  who,  though  fighting  in 
thirty-two  battles,  never  lowered  his  flag.  In  the 
last  struggle  against  the  English,  who  were  wresting 


338  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

from  the  Dutch  the  carrying  trade  of  the  seas  and 
command  of  the  waves,  Tromp  lost  his  life,  but  not 
his  prestige.  The  battle  of  seventy-nine  Dutch  ships 
against  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  British  ships 
was  fought  near  the  dunes.  Because  in  the  legend 
he  is  said  to  have  nailed  a  broom  to  his  masthead  to 
signify  that  he  had  swept  the  channel  clear  of  his 
enemies,  the  British  have  taken  revenge  by  nailing 
a  Van  to  his  name,  even  as  they  still  persist  in 
keeping  a  w  in  Bonaparte's. 

Here  also  sleeps  the  man,  the  curtness  of  whose 
name  gives  point  and  flavor  to  the  rhyme  in  popular 
songs.  In  1628  this  "Piet  Hein,"  whose  name  is 
"klein"  (little),  captured  at  Matanzas  the  Spanish 
Silver  Fleet  with  its  twelve  million  guilders'  worth 
of  "  plate,"  —  which  in  English  is  still  the  old  name 
of  silver  "borrowed"  from  the  Spaniards.  Even 
as  late  as  1812,  when  Commodore  Rodgers  crossed 
the  Atlantic  in  the  frigate  President,  hoping  to  cap- 
ture the  English  "plate  fleet,"  as  he  called  it,  which 
had  left  the  West  Indies,  he  got  only  cocoanut  shells 
and  orange  peel  instead  of  the  white  metal  which  he 
was  after.  To  this  day  "  plate  "  in  English  means 
silver.  Piet  Hein,  born  in  Delfshaven,  was  admiral 
of  the  West  India  Company.  His  monument  here 
is  a  cenotaph. 

Another  monument,  with  a  medallion  figure, 
stands  over  the  dust  of  Anton  Leeuwenhoek,  born 
in  Delft,  October  24,  1632.  He  invented  the  micro- 
scope, and  opened  new  volumes  of  revelation  of  the 
infinitely  little,  showing  life  below  in  ever  deepening 
abysses,  laying  the  foundations  for  new  sciences,  and 


THE  CITY  OF  GROTIUS  AND  ORANGE      339 

enlarging  man's  idea  of  the  universe.  Of  a  new 
world  of  facts  he  was  the  Columbus.  He  hunted 
down  the  animalculae  and  rotifers,  and  described 
them.  He  revealed  the  spider's  foot  and  her  spin- 
nerets, the  insect's  many  faceted  eye,  and  the  scales 
on  the  butterfly's  wings.  Yet,  though  we  speak  of 
"  microscope,"  let  no  one  think  of  splendid  fittings 
of  brass  and  steel  with  verniers,  screws,  nice  adjust- 
ments, lenses  made  of  diamond  or  crystal  ground  to 
perfection.  No !  Leeuwenhoek's  apparatus  by  which 
he  discovered  even  the  bacilli,  now  so  well  known, 
consisted  of  little  beads  set  in  loops  of  wire  or  bits 
of  brass ;  yet  with  these  he  was  able  to  work  won- 
ders, yes,  even  over  worlds  of  darkness,  and  to  say 
like  Him  whom  he  honored  and  revered,  "  Let  there 
be  light."  Industrious  to  the  age  of  ninety-one,  he 
added  immensely  to  our  knowledge. 

These  things  stimulate  the  brain,  but  here  at  the 
end  of  the  choir  is  something  to  touch  the  heart. 
It  is  a  monument  to  a  daughter  of  the  great  and 
ever  illustrious  Philip  van  Marnix  Aldegonde.  He 
was  the  bosom  friend  of  the  Silent.  He  died  in 
1598,  and  his  statue  is  at  Souburg  in  Zealand. 

Let  me  add  a  postscript  and  send  "  regrets,"  as 
my  script  turns  to  type,  to  this  invitation  :  "  The 
Delegates  of  the  United  States  of  America  to  the 
International  Peace  Conference  have  the  honor  to 
invite  the  Rev.  W.  E.  Griffis  to  be  present  at  the 
ceremony  of  placing  a  wreath  in  the  name  of  their 
government  upon  the  tomb  of  Grotius,  in  the  Nieuwe 
Kerk,  Delft,  on  the  morning  of  Tuesday,  July  4, 
1899,  at  11  o'clock." 


CHAPTER  XXXV 


All  the  world  calls  this  city  the  Hague,  though 
there  are  several  linguistic  variations  of  the  name ; 
but  to  the  Dutch  it  is 's  Graven  Hage,  that  is,  the 
Count's  Hedge.  In  the  bright  and  cheerful  railway- 
station  we  read  Den  Haag,  or  The  Hague  (that  is, 
The  Inclosure).  It  has  never  been  a  walled  city. 
One  therefore  looks  in  vain  for  the  great  encircling 
canals  which,  elsewhere  in  these  lowlands,  have 
served  as  defenses.  Nor  are  there  promenades  and 
gardens  built  on  old  ramparts,  nor  any  imposing 
gateways  or  towers  telling  of  the  bravery  of  mediae- 
val city  architecture,  or  of  the  willingness  of  burgh- 
ers to  lavish  money  for  purposes  of  inclusion  and 
exclusion.  There  are  indeed  canals,  but  for  a  Dutch 
city  they  are  so  few  that  they  do  but  serve  to  show 
how  rich  in  dry  land  this  city  is. 

Let  us  go  at  once  to  the  very  heart  of  the  place 
and  stand  at  the  edge  of  the  Yijver.  This  is  a  fish- 
pond, but  no  one  is  allowed  to  catch  fish  here,  and 
the  swans  and  cygnets  have  the  water  and  the  tiny 
wooded  island  aU  to  themselves.  On  the  eastern 
side  are  groves  of  superb  trees.  The  names  of 
this  lovely  wooded  space,  with  others  immediately 
around  the  Vijver,  are  all  redolent  of  the  memories 


THE  COUNT'S  HEDGE  341 

of  feudal  ages.  To  the  north  is  the  Tournooi  Veld, 
or  Tourney  Field.  A  little  to  the  west  are  the 
Yoorhout,  or  Outer  Forest,  and  the  favorite  hotel 
of  Americans,  the  Vieux  Doelen,  wherein,  from  the 
time  of  John  Adams  to  the  last  envoy  plenipoten- 
tiary, our  American  representatives  have  spent  more 
or  less  time.  Long  ago  the  building  was  occupied 
by  target  companies.  Many  oil  paintings  in  the 
city  museum  show  first  the  arrow  ranges  and  then 
the  arquebus,  firelock,  and  rifle  butts  that  used  to 
be  here.  The  wooded  space  is  called  the  Vijverberg, 
and  at  one  time,  doubtless,  it  was  a  swell  of  land 
several  feet  high.  Near  by  is  the  Plein,  to  which 
come  the  horse,  tram,  and  electric  cars  which  run, 
with  the  aid  of  storage  batteries,  to  Scheveningen. 

Fronting  the  Plein  is  the  building  of  the  famous 
White  Society,  within  which  the  men  of  wit  and  art, 
courage  and  wealth,  gather.  Outdoors,  under  the 
trees,  in  summer,  one  will  see  hundreds  of  politi- 
cians, military  officers,  and  civilians  chatting,  smok- 
ing, and  drinking.  On  one  side  is  the  Kijks,  or 
national  archives.  On  the  opposite  sides  are  the  old 
buildings  of  the  Ministry  of  the  Colonies,  and  the 
superb  edifice  of  the  Ministry  of  Justice,  one  of  the 
finest  in  modern  Holland.  Thickly  clustering  to 
the  southward  are  other  governmental  and  historic 
buildings.  One  row,  with  architecture  of  general 
mediaeval  eiffect,  stands  between  the  Vijver  and  the 
Binnen  Hof,  which  latter  is  an  inclosed  court  cor- 
responding to,  or  rather  contrasting  with,  the  Buiten 
Hof,  the  two  making  the  Inner  and  the  Outer 
Court.      Within  the  open  space  have  taken  place 


342  THE  AMERICAN  IN   HOLLAND 

some  of  the  greatest  events  in  the  national  history, 
yet  the  style  of  the  buildings  is  unprepossessing 
and  almost  repulsively  plain.  The  north  and  south 
wings  are  occupied  by  the  national  legislature  or 
the  States  General.  As  the  tourist  in  Italy  so  often 
notices,  there  may  be,  after  crossing  the  threshold 
past  plain  brick  fronts,  great  splendor.  Inside  one 
finds  many  a  handsome  hall  with  elegant  ceilings 
and  paintings. 

In  the  centre  of  the  open  space  through  which 
run  the  tram-cars,  one  sees  a  slight  but  handsome 
piece  of  bronze  and  iron  work  in  honor  of  the 
Counts  of  Holland.  This  but  partially  redeems  the 
general  dullness  of  so  much  dingy  brick.  To  the 
south  rises  the  old  Hall  of  the  Knights,  with  a  lofty 
gable  and  a  turret  on  either  side.  In  the  time  of 
Florus  V.  it  was  moated,  but  its  ancient  water  gir- 
dle is  now  no  more.  When  the  States  General  oc- 
cupied the  building  for  its  sessions,  the  lofty  ceil- 
ing was  gorgeous  with  captured  battle-flags  and  the 
proud  emblems  of  dukes  and  kings,  snatched  in 
victory  from  the  foe.  There  the  rulers  of  the  Re- 
public met  to  make  laws,  and  order  the  course  of 
state.  In  front  of  it,  on  a  platform,  Barne veldt 
was  beheaded  in  1619.  In  modern  times  it  has 
been  made  the  repository  of  archives,  and  alas  !  the 
"  power  house  "  of  lottery  distribution. 

Another  relic  of  the  earlier  centuries,  is  the  Hof 
Singel,  to  the  east.  To  the  southwest  is  the  elegant 
Plaats,  or  Plaza,  an  open  space  with  fine  buildings  on 
each  side,  while  off  to  the  east  is  the  Gevangepoort, 
or  Prison  Gate.     Alongside  this  famous  old  gate- 


THE  COUNT'S  HEDGE  343 

way  is  the  prison  house,  now  a  museum  and  for  show 
only,  wherein,  from  dungeon-cellar  to  the  sick  bay 
in  the  attic,  are  kept  those  obsolete  engines  of  tor- 
ture which  speak  to  us  so  eloquently  of  our  progress 
from  them.  Only  a  few  rods  away  the  brothers  De 
Witt  were  torn  to  pieces  in  that  volcanic  outburst 
of  popular  savagery  in  1672.^ 

In  a  word,  it  is  around  the  Vijver,  the  old  centre 
of  mediaeval  life,  that  the  most  important  and  inter- 
esting edifices,  as  well  as  the  parades,  pageants,  and 
gatherings  of  people  of  note,  are  still  to  be  seen. 
For  both  history  and  politics  one  comes  to  the 
feather-flecked  swan-pond,  the  dull-looking  Binnen 
Hof,  and  the  Plein. 

It  was  about  the  year  1250  that  Count  William 
of  Holland  built  a  summer  palace  here  amid  the 
vast  forests  that  stretched  through  this  region. 
Game  abounded,  and  there  were  room  and  material 
for  hunting,  with  plenty  of  fish  food  and  bracing 
cold  air  from  the  sea,  only  three  or  four  miles  dis- 
tant. Hence,  the  name  of  the  place  as  the  Count's 
Hedge,  or  inclosure.  This  Count  William  after- 
ward became  Emperor  of  Germany.  When  his  son, 
Florus  v.,  whose  dust  and  tomb  are  at  Alkmaar, 
came  to  power,  he  enlarged  the  summer  palace  and 
made  the  Hague  his  capital,  ruling  his  dominions 
from  this  centre.  In  one  of  the  numerous  civil  wars 
between  Holland  and  Gelderland,  the  growing  town 
and  palace  were  plundered  and  burned  to  the  ground 
by  the  doughty  Maarten  van  Rossem,  who  led  the 
Gelderlanders.  In  the  days  of  the  Republic,  the  town, 
1  The  Student's  Motley,  p.  844. 


344  THE  AMERICAN   IN  HOLLAND 

having  been  built  up  again,  was  made  the  central 
seat  of  the  Dutch  United  States.  Owing  to  the  very- 
natural  fear  that  the  people  living  in  the  capital,  if 
represented  in  the  national  congress,  would  have  too 
much  influence,  the  other  cities  did  not  allow  the 
Hague  a  vote ;  and  so  for  centuries  it  remained  a 
Dutch  District  of  Columbia,  unrepresented  in  Con- 
gress. This  is  the  chief  reason  why,  in  its  general 
aspects,  the  Hague  remained  for  a  long  time  what 
the  city  of  Washington  used  to  be,  "  an  overgrown 
village,"  and  the  "  largest  in  Europe."  When, 
however.  Napoleon  made  his  brother  Louis  King  of 
Holland,  this  ruler,  who  cared  more  for  the  people 
of  Netherlands  than  for  the  Bonapartes,  conferred 
upon  the  Hague  the  privileges  of  a  municipality, 
and  from  that  time  forth  it  became  more  like  a 
European  capital  city. 

During  the  last  fifty  years  the  Hague  has  grown 
far  beyond  the  ratio  of  most  Dutch  cities,  and  within 
the  last  ten  years  astonishingly  so.  The  tram-cars 
enable  us  to  reach  the  newer  portions  conquered 
from  polders,  vegetable  gardens,  and  grain-fields. 
Here  we  find  row  upon  row  of  elegant  houses  occu- 
pied by  veterans  retired  from  the  service,  and  thou- 
sands of  small  but  comfortable  dwellings  in  which 
country  people,  with  something  laid  up  against  a 
rainy  day,  make  their  homes.  Some  Dutchmen  com- 
plain that  this  growth  of  the  Hague  is  not  normal, 
for  there  are  no  important  manufactures  nor  any 
special  resources.  Yet  general  opinion  and  practice 
agree,  almost  to  an  axiom,  in  declaring  that  there 
are  only  three  great  Dutch  cities.     In  Rotterdam 


THE  COUNT'S  HEDGE  345 

you  make  your  fortune,  in  Amsterdam  you  consoli- 
date it,  in  the   Hague  you  enjoy  it. 

The  bright,  cheerful,  and  modern,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  aristocratic  and  prosperous  appearance  of 
Den  Haag  comes  simply  from  the  presence  of  the 
Court,  which  naturally  draws  together  the  nobility, 
fashion,  and  leisure  of  the  realm,  and  the  diploma- 
tists from  other  countries.  For  the  most  part  the 
streets  are  laid  out  between  the  points  of  the  com- 
pass. The  form  of  the  city  is  oblong,  and  most  of 
the  avenues  are  wide. 

In  naming  the  streets,  Batavia  has  'opened  her 
jewel-box  and  adorned  herself.  The  Dutch  have 
drawn  on  their  long  and  brilliant  roll  of  famous 
names  in  history,  art,  exploration,  scientific  achieve- 
ments, statesmanship,  and  all  that  makes  a  nation's 
story  glorious.  Indeed,  the  nomenclature  mirrors  the 
natural  history.  The  northeastern  part,  which  is  in- 
closed within  the  region  occupied  by  the  zoological 
garden,  the  Orange  barracks,  the  great  Willem's 
park,  the  Alexander's  plein,  and  the  Cavalry  bar- 
racks, is  called  "  The  Archipelago."  Here  one  reads 
the  names  of  Surinam,  Paramaribo,  Sumatra,  Cele- 
bes, Java,  Cantaloup,  and  other  possessions  in  the 
Far  East. 

Another  great  block  of  streets  west  of  Willem's 
Park  glorifies  the  naval  heroes  De  Ruyter  and 
Tromp,  with  Anna  Paulo wna,  name  of  the  Russian 
princess  who  married  King  William  II.,  between  the 
two,  like  Una  among  the  lions.  Further  west,  with 
Prince  Hendrik  Park  as  the  centre,  is  another 
quarter  suggesting  sea  power  and  exploration.     Ba- 


346  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

rents,  Heemskerk,  Tasman,  Van  Diemen,  Rogge- 
veen,thougli  dead,  yet  speak  to  us  of  the  romance  of 
discovery.  Among  them  the  American  recognizes 
with  interest  Van  BrackeL 

In  the  same  quarter  are  the  names  of  Van  Speyk 
and  Hugo  de  Groot.  Lying  cast  of  the  King's 
stables  and  the  Princess'  garden  is  a  set  of  streets 
reminding  one  of  steps  on  a  flight  of  stairs,  for  here 
are  the  literary  names  of  Helmers,  Da  Costa,  and 
others  mounting  up  to  Tollens  and  Bilderdijk.  In 
the  older  part  of  the  city  are  the  more  ordinary 
Dutch  street  names,  which  tell  the  usual  ancient 
story  of  turf,  wood,  vegetable,  cattle,  sheep,  and 
general  markets,  while  in  the  southwestern  portion 
again,  we  have  a  row  of  elegant  streets  named  after 
poets  and  painters,  and  the  modern  statesmen  Van 
Hogendorp,  Van  Limburg  Stirum,  etc. 

Naturally,  the  American  likes  the  Hague.  It  is 
bright,  fresh,  clean,  and  modern  looking,  like  his 
own  Washington.  There  is,  in  addition  to  the  old 
mediaeval  associations  which  cluster  around  the  Vij- 
ver,  much  that  interests  in  the  close  touch  which 
many  a  house  and  place  here  have  with  English  and 
American  history.  In  the  first  place,  the  fathers  of 
our  Constitution  took  from  the  Dutch  many  good 
ideas  in  republican  government,  no  doubt  greatly 
improving  upon  them ;  or  they  learned  from  the 
costly  experience  of  the  Netherlands  what  to  avoid. 
The  federal  Union  of  the  States  was  consummated 
at  Utrecht  in  1579,  but  the  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence from  Spain  was  published  at  the  Hague  in 
1681. 


THE  COUNT'S  HEDGE  347 

The  fathers  of  the  American  Constitution,  meet- 
ing and  debating  in  Philadelphia  in  1787,  inherited 
the  resources  of  British  experience  and  drew  lib- 
erally from  it,  but  they  had  the  Dutch  Republic  as 
a  living  reality  before  their  eyes.  In  the  days  of 
its  decline,  when  the  pro-British  executive,  or  stad- 
holder,  had  the  legislative  department  and  the  peo- 
ple against  him,  when  he  was  for  monarchy  and 
against  America,  while  the  people  were  for  liberty 
and  believed  in  our  cause,  our  fathers  took  warning 
and  learned  wisdom.  They  made  their  executive 
not  a  king  but  a  stadholder,  yet  elective  and  im- 
peachable. Instead  of  saying,  as  even  Patrick  Henry 
would  have  wanted  them  to  do,  "  We  the  States 
do  ordain  and  establish  this  Constitution,"  they  said, 
"  We  the  people  of  the  United  States."  Although 
they  organized  the  Senate  almost  exactly  upon  the 
lines  of  the  States  General,  they  erected  a  second 
house  upon  even  larger  foundations  than  that  great 
committee  on  the  conduct  of  war,  of  the  Dutch  Re- 
public, which  stood  for  the  nation  at  large  instead 
of  the  separate  States.  Thus,  besides  the  States 
particular,  representing  sovereign  states  in  a  States 
General  or  Congress,  we  have  a  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives standing  for  the  people  and  quickly  re- 
sponsive to  the  national  will.  In  their  third  great 
differentiation  of  political  powers,  our  fathers  fol- 
lowed the  Dutch  rather  than  the  English  precedent. 
They  ordained  a  Supreme  Court,  which,  in  the  last 
analysis  of  the  United  States  government,  holds  the 
balance  of  power,  just  as  in  the  old  Dutch  Republic 
the  supreme  judiciary  at  the  Hague  wielded  the 
supremacy. 


348  THE   AMERICAN   IN   HOLLAND 

It  is  not  especially  creditable  to  the  people  of  the 
Hague  that  one  has  to  go  to  other  cities  in  the  Va- 
derland  to  find  the  statues  of  the  nation's  greatest 
sons.  Why  does  not  one  see  here  the  images  of  Ho- 
gerdorp  and  Thorbecke,  to  say  nothing  of  the  sons 
of  genius  in  art,  war,  and  exploration  ?  Indeed,  the 
things  missed  in  Holland  are  as  noteworthy  as  things 
visible.  Where  are  monuments  to  Prince  Maurice 
and  to  Barneveldt  ?     Where  are  women's  colleges  ? 

There  is  one  statue,  however,  in  the  Paviljoens 
Gracht,  which,  with  the  instructor  in  psychology  at 
Wellesley  College,  I  hastened  to  see,  —  that  of  one 
of  the  world's  greatest  thinkers.  Like  most  of  his 
fraternity,  he  was  better  appreciated  after  his  death 
than  by  his  contemporaries.  It  is  one  of  the  penal- 
ties which  the  Almighty  imposes  on  a  world  of  com- 
mon folk  that  a  great  man  cannot  be  at  once  appre- 
ciated. Spinoza  helped  to  banish  superstition  and  to 
identify  faith  with  conscience.  He  lived  in  the  world 
of  intellect,  in  the  contemplation  of  divine  ideas, 
and  in  the  investigation  of  nature.  He  devoted 
his  life  to  truth  and  knowledge.  Cast  out  of  the 
Amsterdam  synagogue  with  maledictions,  he  resigned 
himself  to  the  will  of  God  and  became  dead  to  the 
world.  This  noble  non-conformist  refused  pensions 
and  favors  and  lived  in  honest  poverty,  securing  his 
bread  by  grinding  lenses  for  an  optician.  Without 
superstition,  doubt,  or  fear,  he  strove  to  know  God, 
and  was  never  far  from  Him,  or  his  kingdom,  or 
the  Christ.  Intellectually,  he  set  ethics  on  an  im- 
mutable basis.  Personally,  he  was  without  guile. 
He  illustrated  the  truth  that  '*  God  fulfills  himself  in 


THE  COUNT'S  HEDGE  349 

many  ways."  Spinoza  lived  from  1671  to  1677  at 
house  No.  32,  on  which  is  a  small  tablet,  and  near 
the  pulpit  in  the  Nieuwe  Kerk  which  we  visited  is 
his  tomb  marked  only  with  his  name.  The  bronze 
statue  by  Hexamer  was  set  up  in  1880.  Our  hon- 
ored American  ambassador  to  Germany,  the  intel- 
lectual founder  of  Cornell  University,  and  the  au- 
thor of  a  book  on  a  "  conflict,"  —  which  in  reality  is 
as  imaginary  as  between  chemistry  and  science,  or 
between  logarithms  and  mathematics,  —  once  told  me 
of  a  certain  appearance  of  opposition  by  the  clergy 
of  the  Hague,  but  I  gathered  from  his  own  account 
that  Spinoza's  admirers  and  the  subscribers  to  the 
monument  were  rather  disappointed  at  there  being 
so  little  "  conflict,"  —  hardly  enough  for  advertise- 
ment. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

CLASSIC   LEYDEN 

Leyden,  by  "  the  dead  Rhine,"  is  one  of  the  old- 
est of  Dutch  towns.  All  the  world  knows  of  it 
because  of  its  famous  siege  by  the  Spaniards  and 
deliverance  by  the  Zealanders,  who  broke  the  dikes 
and  sailed  over  orchards  and  farmhouses,  fought 
the  Spaniards  among  the  trees  and  causeways,  and 
delivered  the  people  from  black  famine  by  bringing 
herrings  and  loaves.  In  honor  of  the  deliverance, 
William  of  Orange  founded  a  university  in  the 
name  of  the  King  of  Spain.  Here  flocked  the  Brit- 
ish woolen  workers,  driven  out  of  their  country  by 
the  folly  of  Laud  and  the  Stuarts.  Here  the  found- 
ers of  Massachusetts  found  asylum,  nourished  their 
souls,  mended  their  fortunes,  mightily  reinforced 
their  English  inheritance  of  freedom,  and  rocked 
the  cradle  of  their  ambition.  Here  were  educated 
by  thousands  the  men  of  non-conformist  England, 
when  state  church  bigotry  took  the  universities  of 
Oxford  and  Cambridge  away  from  the  nation  to 
give  them  to  one  sect.  Americans  visit  Leyden  as, 
in  a  large  sense,  a  holy  city.  Let  us  glance  at  its 
history  and  see  how  it  was  made. 

In  ancient,  that  is,  Roman  times,  when  Corbulus 
came,  saw,  conquered,  and  improved  the  island,  and 


CLASSIC   LEYDEN  ^  351 

dug  the  Fossa  Corbulonis,  —  the  ditch  named  after 
himself,  —  he  only  enlarged  and  continued  what  had 
been  the  natural  stronghold  of  Lugdunum.  The 
Burg,  which  still  stands  in  the  centre  of  the  town, 
with  its  brick  walls  and  turrets,  whence  the  besieged 
in  1574  went  daily  to  look  over  the  Spanish  camp, 
and  to  watch  for  succor,  stands  on  the  site  of  a 
primitive  stronghold  of  timber  and  earth,  first  built 
in  the  days  of  the  Kelts  and  later  of  the  Batavians. 
Excavations  have  revealed  and  proved  this  fact. 

Ancient  maps  show  that  the  Burg  once  stood  ex- 
actly at  the  junction  of  the  two  rivers,  the  old  and 
the  new  Rhine.  With  their  missiles  and  their  boats, 
the  garrison  could  command  both  the  way  down  to 
the  sea  and  the  entrance  into  the  country.  Hence 
its  tremendous  strategic  importance.  The  ditch  dug 
by  Corbulus  became  later  the  Old  Fleet  (Oude 
Vliet),  and  still  later  the  Pilgrims'  water  path  to 
freedom  and  the  New  World,  just  as  the  Fleet 
River  in  London,  now  a  dry  street,  was  once  filled 
with  ships  carrying  to  America  refugees  for  con- 
science' sake. 

The  Burg,  then,  is  a  mound  of  artificial  and  grad- 
ual formation  which  rose  during  the  Middle  Ages. 
Excavation  reveals  three  strata,  or  three  distinct 
burgs,  the  first  showing,  in  clay  and  wood,  the  Ro- 
man prsetorium  or  camp ;  the  second  of  clay  and 
brick  ;  the  third  of  brick  only.  The  Romans  not 
only  held  Leyden,  but  down  on  the  seashore  at  Kat- 
wijk,  where  to-day  are  the  colossal  gates  and  sluices 
for  holding  in  and  pumping  out  the  accumulated 
waters  of  "  the  dead  Rhine,"  stood  once  a  splendid 


352  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Roman  fort,  laid  out  and  perfected  by  the  finest 
engineering  skill.  It  was  called  the  British  House 
(Huis  de  Brittin),  that  is,  the  house  guarding  the 
path  to  the  island  and  defending  the  Roman  power 
from  British  marauders.  It  was  large  and  well 
finished,  and  evidently  occupied  for  many  years  by 
a  permanent  garrison.  The  antiquities  recovered 
from  it  show  the  presence  of  families  as  well  as  sol- 
diers, luxury  as  well  as  camp  life.  When  built,  the 
dunes,  or  sand-masses,  were  much  further  to  the 
west,  and  the  camp  guarding  the  river  mouth  was 
inside  them.  Now,  the  age-long  action  of  the  wind 
and  sea  have  thrown  the  dunes  many  furlongs  east- 
ward. The  sandhills  first  covered  the  camp,  then 
they  moved  over  and  beyond  it,  so  that  gradually 
the  fortifications  were  broken  up  and  submerged  by 
the  waves  of  the  sea.  In  seasons  of  exceedingly  low 
water,  the  ruins  of  the  walls  and  outlines  were 
clearly  visible,  and  much  precious  spoil  has  been 
won  for  the  museums. 

After  the  Romans  had  left  and  gone  south,  there 
began  a  movement  of  nations,  Saxons,  Frisians, 
Angles,  which  populated  England,  and  which  has 
left  its  mark  on  the  map  of  Holland  in  the  names 
Engel,  Engeland,  Engelen,  Engelenberg,  etc.,  by 
the  score.  There  are  records  of  raids  by  the  Norse- 
men in  A.  D.  856.  In  1100  the  town  of  Leyden  ap- 
pears walled  and  moated.  The  walls  of  St.  Peter's 
Kerk  were  rising  in  1151.  Later,  the  castle  of  the 
Count  of  Holland  and  the  cloisters  and  monasteries 
were  built.  Outside  of  the  city,  on  an  island  com- 
manding the  stream,  rose  the  Burg.     The  first  city 


CLASSIC   LEYDEN  353 

of  Leyden  lay  between  what  is  called  the  Rhine  and 
the  New  Rhine,  and  in  it  were  included  the  Breede 
Straat,  that  is,  the  Broad  or  Main  Street,  with  most 
of  the  present  thoroughfares.  St.  Peter's  Church, 
the  Veiled  Nun's  cloister  and  garden,  —  now  belong- 
ing to  the  University,  —  the  library,  the  museum  of 
natural  history  and  of  antiquities,  the  butter  and 
vegetable  market,  the  eel,  flour,  and  wood  markets, 
lie  in  what  is  still  recognized  as  "  the  city." 

Then  followed  successively  various  "  vergrooter- 
ingen,"  or  enlargements,  the  first,  in  A.  D.  1200,  be- 
ing between  the  two  arms  of  the  Rhine  from  the 
Burg  to  the  Heerengracht,  in  which  also  stands  the 
Church  of  St.  Pancras,  built  on  a  rise  of  ground. 
About  1294  another  enlargement  took  place  between 
the  Rhine  and  what  is  now  the  Oude  Vest.  Again, 
in  1355,  began  a  very  considerable  increase,  embra- 
cing the  whole  southern  side  of  the  modern  city  be- 
tween its  Singel,  or  outer  moat,  and  the  new  Rhine 
and  the  Rapenburg.  Here  to-day  are  the  large  gar- 
dens and  the  Doelen,  or  archery  grounds.  At  the 
dedication  of  each  of  the  great  walls,  towers,  gates, 
and  "  rivers  "  there  were  ceremonies,  with  spectacles 
and  costume-processions.  In  1420  Jan  van  Beijren 
besieged  the  city  for  nine  weeks  and  took  it. 

The  fifth  enlargement  took  place  some  years  after 
the  Spaniards'  siege  of  1574,  and  in  fact  in  the  very 
year,  1609,  in  which  the  Pilgrims  arrived  in  Am- 
sterdam. This  enlargement  was  on  the  north  side, 
between  the  Oude  Vest  and  the  present  Singel,  or 
outer  moat,  which  had  on  it  five  great  bastions  with 
walls,  towers,  and  bulwarks.     This  new  quarter  was 


354  THE   AMERICAN   IN  HOLLAND 

quickly  filled  up  with  houses,  for  the  city  was  then 
very  prosperous.  Not  only  had  the  Dutch  Re- 
public been  so  far  recognized  as  to  compel  a  truce 
with  mighty  Spain,  but  the  cloth  manufactures,  dye 
works,  breweries,  and  general  industries  of  Leyden 
were  famous  all  over  the  continent  and  in  England. 
The  Pilgrims  came  at  a  good  time,  when  work  was 
plenty  and  so  varied  that,  even  though  most  of  them 
were  unskilled  laborers,  direct  from  the  farm,  they 
were  able  to  obtain  employment  and  wages  with  a 
fair  promise  of  permanence. 

In  1610  John  Robinson's  party  took  up  their 
quarters  in  the  northwestern  and  newest  part  of 
the  city,  near  the  site  of  the  later  Laken-hal  (cloth 
warehouse),  now  containing  the  municipal  museum. 
There  were  already  here  many  other  English  workers 
in  woven  goods,  besides  students  and  soldiers  and 
their  families.  Ultimatel}^,  the  congregation  was 
able  to  buy  a  handsome  lot  in  the  very  heart  and 
most  desirable  quarter  of  the  old  city.  Their  leaders 
and  probably  one  third  of  their  number  lived  amid 
the  fashionable  and  the  learned,  under  the  very 
shadow  of  St.  Peter's  Church  and  the  University. 

About  1640  the  tremendous  increase  of  cloth- 
weaving  and  the  making  of  woolen  fabrics  brought 
greater  riches  to  Leyden,  and  then  the  great  Cloth 
Hall  was  built.  The  bulwarks  and  walls  were 
strengthened,  new  cattle  markets  added,  the  botani- 
cal gardens  under  the  illustrious  Boerhave  created, 
new  dikes  made,  the  German  added  to  the  French 
and  English  churches.  By  this  time  the  Separatist, 
or  Pilgrim  Company,  had  by  emigration  to  America, 


CLASSIC   LEYDEN  355 

deaths,  and  removals,  melted  away,  until  there  were 
left  few  who  spoke  English.  A  sixth  quarter  of  the 
city  was  laid  out  between  the  new  Rhine  and  the 
northern  Singel,  and  between  the  Heeren  Gracht 
and  the  bulwarks  and  Singel,  which  still  hold  their 
old  lines.  Thus  the  city,  brave  with  its  own  walls 
and  towers,  and  outer  forts  built  on  islands,  or  at 
the  points  of  peninsulas  commanding  water  ap- 
proaches, bade  defiance  to  the  weakened  Spaniards, 
who  in  a  few  years  sued  for  peace. 

What  was  its  population  at  different  times  ?  Even 
writers  reputed  critical  talk  of  "  Leyden's  100,000 
people."  On  the  contrary,  from  the  very  best  data 
obtainable,  it  had,  in  the  year  of  the  siege,  even 
when  people  from  the  villages  adjacent  pressed  into 
it  for  safety,  not  over  12,000.  In  the  later  days  of  its 
greater  prosperity,  it  was  known  to  have  had  40,000 
souls.  There  is  no  proof  from  census,  or  tax  lists, 
or  other  data,  that  Leyden  at  any  time  of  its  history 
ever  contained  over  50,000  people.  Nor,  indeed, 
was  the  war  of  independence  fought  with  over 
800,000  people  under  the  orange,  white,  and  blue 
banner.  Not  till  after  the  peace  of  1648  could  the 
Netherlands  boast  a  population  of  over  a  million. 

I  have  visited  Leyden  repeatedly,  the  second  time 
with  Lyra.  Then  we  tried  to  see  everything  beau- 
tiful in  the  way  of  gardens,  museums,  St.  Peter's 
Church,  and  the  streets  and  places  made  sacred  to  all 
Americans  by  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  and  Mothers. 
From  the  Church  of  St.  Pancras,  or  "  the  Highland 
Church,"  near  a  buttress  in  which  is  an  insignificant 
monument  to  Burgomaster  Van  der  Werff,  we  went 


366  THE   AMERICAN  IN   HOLLAND 

up  to  the  top  of  the  Burg  hard  by.  Being  a  fair  day, 
we  had  a  superb  view  of  the  town,  the  neighborhood, 
the  river,  and  roads  leading  down  to  the  sea.  Here  we 
could  look  over  the  points  of  vantage  once  covered  by 
Spanish  forts,  above  which  waved  the  blue  and  white 
checkerboard  flag  of  Alva.  Then  on  the  signal  sta- 
tions stood  Spanish  sharpshooters  with  their  arque- 
buses, to  bring  down  the  carrier  pigeons  from  Delft, 
which  brought  messages  of  hope  and  promises  of 
relief  from  Prince  William,  whose  Orange  standard 
waved  above  the  beleaguered  town. 

We  crossed  the  New  Rhine  and  Nobel  Street,  to 
the  empty  space  where  once  stood  the  house  of  Pro- 
fessor Luzac,  Washington's  friend.  This  scholar 
was  killed  in  the  great  gunpowder  explosion  of  1807. 
For  two  generations  the  place  was  called  "  the  great 
ruin,"  and  used  as  a  drill-ground.  Now  there  is  a 
fair  garden  where  rosy-cheeked  and  golden-haired 
babies  and  their  mothers  and  nurses  gather  together 
in  the  mornings  amid  the  glorious  flowers.  A  su- 
perb bronze  statue  of  Burgomaster  Van  der  Werff, 
heroic  leader  of  the  defense  against  Spanish  besie- 
gers, rises  above  bas-reliefs  which  tell  eloquently  the 
ever  memorable  story,  of  which,  among  a  thousand 
narrators.  Motley  is  chief. 

Of  many  walks  afterward  made  with  antiquarians 
and  professors  in  Leyden,  one  that  interested  me 
most  led  us  to  the  Vliet,  one  of  the  oldest  parts  of 
the  city,  possibly  going  back  to  Roman  days,  and  to 
the  "kade,"  or  quay,  named  after  Boisot,  the  intrepid 
admiral  who  commanded  the  rescue  boats  from 
Zealand.      These  unflinching  patriots    drove   their 


CLASSIC  LEYDEN  357 

keels  from  Rotterdam  over  the  waters  filling  the 
submerged  fields,  and  brought  food  to  the  starving 
and  victory  to  the  republican  cause.  Portions  of  the 
old  walls,  gates,  and  sluiceways  still  exist.  Stand- 
ing on  them,  imagination  easily  pictures  the  scene, 
despite  the  altered  surroundings. 

When,  in  1891,  I  visited  first  the  archives  so  rich 
and  varied,  they  were  kept  in  the  old  city  hall  on 
Broad  Street.  When  I  came  again  to  Leyden,  in 
1895,  there  rose  up  a  magnificent  new  fireproof 
building  on  Boisot  Quay,  where,  with  all  modern 
comforts  and  conveniences,  the  records  of  priceless 
value  were  arranged  in  scrupulous  order  under  the 
care  of  Mr.  Charles  Dozy.  Few  European  cities 
have  so  rich  a  collection  illustrating  the  manifold 
phases  of  life  in  an  old  city. 

One  visit  to  Leyden  was  with  a  young  woman,  a 
graduate  of  Wellesley  College.  This  time,  besides 
seeing  the  historic  monuments,  streets,  and  places, 
we  went  up  to  the  city  hall  spire,  where  the  chimes 
were  playing.  The  musician  showed  us  some  of  the 
mysteries  of  campanology,  while  Mr.  Dozy,  antiqua- 
rian and  archivist,  pointed  out  from  the  bulb  spire 
—  a  very  tulip  of  architectural  beauty,  blossoming 
high  in  air  —  the  main  lines  and  prominent  features 
of  the  ancient,  the  mediaeval,  and  the  modern  city. 
Leyden  holds  the  wool-sack  of  the  kingdom.  The 
cloth-makers  washed  their  fleeces  in  the  first  canals 
dug,  and  even  at  this  end  of  the  century  the  city 
excels  in  textile  fabrics.  Descending  from  spire  to 
the  street,  we  rambled  in  Bell  Alley,  and  up  and 
down  these  narrow  ways,  wherein  my  young  friend's 
ancestors  had  walked  centuries  ago. 


358  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

When  I  saw  Leyden  amid  the  floral  splendors  of 
June,  1895,  the  whole  city  seemed  one  mass  of  color 
and  decoration.  The  national  colors,  red,  white,  and 
blue,  were  wreathed,  festooned,  or  made  into  rosettes 
on  thousands  of  houses.  The  shield  of  the  house  of 
Nassau,  and  of  William  the  Silent,  and  the  arms 
of  the  various  stadholders  and  kings  of  the  House 
of  Orange,  quartered  in  some  instances  with  those  of 
the  English  Stuarts,  adorned  the  house-fronts.  On 
balconies,  awnings,  and  projections,  before  the  hotels 
and  beer-houses  along  the  main  streets,  were  masses 
of  sod  and  bloom,  in  the  midst  of  which  stood  white 
statuettes  of  Minerva.  The  words  "  Floreat  Acade- 
mia,"  and  "  Nos  jungit  Amicitia,"  were  numetous  and 
visible,  with  omnipresent  orange  decorations.  In 
many  places  sheaves  of  five  arrows  or  five  flags  repre- 
sented as  many  faculties  in  the  great  University. 
Underneath  these  were  the  words  "  Virtus,  Concor- 
dia, Fides."  The  symbolical  colors  were  for  the 
law,  red ;  for  medicine,  green  ;  for  theology,  black ; 
for  philosophy,  blue ;  for  literature,  white.  The  oc- 
casion of  this  unusual  decoration  was  a  lustrum- 
feast,  —  the  celebration  by  a  costume  procession,  and 
the  popular  amusements  of  a  Kermis,  of  the  three 
hundred  and  fifth  anniversary  of  Prince  Maurice's 
entrance  into  Bergen-op-Zoom.  As  usual,  the  cos- 
tumes of  the  leading  figures  were  superb  and  costly. 
Maurice  was  represented  by  a  young  man,  a  student 
in  the  University,  of  the  wealthy  Dutch  firm  and 
family  well  known  in  all  the  kingdom  as  Van 
Hoboken  &  Co.  The  various  troops  of  the  Dutch 
army,  with  the  English  allies  and  their  leaders,  — 


PROFESSOR  ABRAHAM   KUENEN,   OF   LEVDEN 


CLASSIC   LEYDEN  359 

men  whose  names  are  known  in  both  English  and 
American  history,  —  were  handsomely  portrayed  in 
their  appropriate  costume.  Even  to  the  little  negro 
boy  who  led  Prince  Maurice's  horse,  the  details 
of  dress,  flags,  and  weapons  were  exact  and  appro- 
priate. 

Leyden,  to  my  memory,  is  a  place  of  delightful 
luncheons,  dinners,  and  evening  talks  with  the  Uni- 
versity professors.  At  different  times  I  sat  and 
chatted  with  men  whose  names  are  known  all  over 
the  world,  —  Kern  the  Sanskritist,  whose  "  Bud- 
dhismus  "  in  German  and  translation  of  the  "  Sad- 
darhma  Pundarika  "  into  English  are  read  wherever 
students  would  know  of  one  of  Asia's  greatest  reli- 
gions;  Schlegel  and  Groot,  the  profound  scholars 
in  Chinese,  the  latter  instructor  of  Queen  Wilhel- 
mina  and  interpreter  to  her  of  her  Malay  subjects 
and  their  civilization;  Blok,  the  historian  of  the 
Netherlands  people  and  teacher  of  their  sovereign ; 
and  other  equally  great  or  younger  members  of  Ley- 
den's  illustrious  faculty.  With  Dr.  Schmeltz,  the 
curator  of  the  Japanese  Museum,  and  writer  on 
Korea,  and  Mr.  C.  M.  Dozy,  the  archivist,  I  was  on 
familiar  terms,  and  had  free  access  to  the  treasures 
oriental  and  occidental.  I  spent  many  an  hour  in 
the  splendid  new  fireproof  archives  on  Boisot  Kade, 
so  rich  in  Pilgrim  memorials  in  documentary  form, 
and  built  near  that  waterway  on  which  the  found- 
ers of  Massachusetts  began  their  historic  voyage 
to  America.  When  I  called  on  Professor  Jan  ten 
Brink,  historian  of  Dutch  literature  and  eminent 
writer,  I  found  him   busy  on   his   novel  picturing 


360  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Robespierre  and  Paris  of  the  Red  Terror  Days.  He 
had  just  finished  the  story  of  "  Jan  Starter  and  his 
Wife."  In  his  home  and  in  Minerva's  Hall  we  had 
a  long  talk  on  Dutch  literature.  It  is  no  secret 
as  to  how  and  where  D'Amicis  received  help  and 
inspiration. 

No  American  of  British,  Netherlandish,  or  French 
descent  should  come  to  Leyden  without  seeing  the 
City  Hall,  St.  Peter's  Church,  the  Rapenburg,  the 
Classical  and  the  Municipal  Museum,  the  Burg,  and 
the  gardens.  Yet  if  time  be  limited,  let  the  visitor 
drop  into  the  Walloon  (Huguenot)  library  and 
reading-room,  so  rich  in  historical  and  easily  acces- 
sible genealogical  records,  or  at  least,  and  certainly, 
step  inside  the  Pesyn  Hof  and  look  on  the  old  home 
of  the  Pilgrims.  In  the  Klog  Steeg,  right  opposite 
the  entrance  of  St.  Peter's  Church  and  across  from 
the  big  bronze  tablet  on  its  outer  wall,  is  another 
memorial  in  stone  to  John  Robinson,  the  noble  Pil- 
grim leader.  Opening  the  door,  one  may  step  within 
the  old  inclosure. 

Baedeker  tells  for  the  sight-seer  the  rest,  but  for 
the  living  voice  in  English  and  help  in  finding  one's 
way,  when  Jehu  is  silent  or  knows  Dutch  only,  one 
has  but  to  turn  to  the  school  boy  or  girl,  student, 
professor,  or  passing  well-to-do  citizen,  and  rarely  is 
one  disappointed,  for  the  Leydenese  are  polite,  able, 
and  willing. 

During  a  score  of  visits  to  Leyden,  alone  or  with 
friends,  my  minutes  of  waiting  in  the  railway  station 
aggregated  hours.  Lunches  there  were  provided 
by  the  society  named  "  E  Pluribus  Unum,"  which 


CLASSIC  LEYDEN  361 

furnishes  refreshments,  —  appropriately,  since  Ho- 
race, the  Latin  poet,  first  applies  that  phrase,  now 
found  on  our  double-eagle  gold  coins  and  on  the 
great  seal  of  state,  to  a  salad. 

Not  far  away  from  the  station  is  a  statue,  by 
Strackee,  of  one  of  the  world's  greatest  physicians, 
Boerhave,  known  in  China,  read  in  Arabic,  and 
visited  by  Czar  Peter.  It  were  a  long  story  to  tell 
of  his  marvelous  learning,  accomplishments,  and 
triumphs.  Yet  the  sum  of  his  knowledge  may  be 
possessed  by  all.  When  in  1738  he  died,  leaving  a 
fortune  of  2,000,000  florins  and  a  volume  with  the 
title-page  inscribed  "  Within  this  book  are  all  the 
secrets  of  medicine,"  his  executors  opened  it,  hop- 
ing to  learn  about  the  long-sought  panacea.  They 
found  it.  All  the  leaves  of  the  book  were  blank, 
except  the  last,  on  which  was  written,  "  Keep  the 
head  cool,  the  feet  warm,  and  the  bowels  open." 


THE  INAUGUEATION  OF  QUEEN 
WILHELMINA 


CHAPTER  XXXVn 
queen's  month 

August  2,  1898.  It  is  a  bright,  sunny  day  to 
begin  my  fifth  tour  in  Holland.  Leaving  the  Hook 
of  Holland  southward  on  our  right,  we  pass  the  low, 
lead-colored  cupola  steel  forts  and  the  mouth  of  the 
New  Waterway.  We  are  steaming  up  the  Maas 
River,  in  the  path  of  the  Speedwell,  with  Pilgrim's 
Quay  (Pelgrim  Kade),  on  the  island  which  has 
formed  since  1620,  and  Delf shaven  on  our  left. 
This  is  "the  Queen's  birthday."  All  the  towns 
and  villages,  river-craft  and  sea-going  ships,  are  gay 
with  Holland's  colors. 

But,  which  queen?  In  the  treasures  of  royal 
womanhood  the  Dutch  are  now  rich.  This  is  a 
country  and  a  month  of  queens.  Mother  Emma 
and  daughter  Wilhelmina  rule,  though  the  people 
govern  this  Republic  disguised  under  the  form  and 
fiction  of  monarchy.  The  one  is  regent,  the  other 
is  not  yet  crowned  or  of  age.  On  August  31  there 
will  be  a  political  sunrise  and  sunset  of  importance. 
Queen  Emma  will  become  "  the  king's  widow,"  Wil- 
helmina will  be  the  actual  and  only  Queen  of  the 
Netherlands. 

The  flags  flying  to-day,  the  military  parades,  the 
music,  and  the  illuminations  at  the  Hague  and  in 


366  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

the  cities  are  in  honor  of  Queen  Emma.  In  Rotter- 
dam, always  loyal  to  the  House  of  Orange,  as  we 
walk  the  crowded  old  streets,  we  find  our  view  of 
things  above  shut  out  by  numberless  flags  surr 
mounted  with  orange  cords  and  tassels.  Children 
with  orange  sashes  and  caps,  lettered  with  mottoes 
expressing  hope  of  long  life  to  the  Koningin,  parade 
in  bands. 

Born  in  1858,  this  German  princess,  ninth  in  de- 
scent from  William  the  Silent,  married  William  III., 
the  last  of  the  Dutch  kings,  and  the  tenth  in  the 
male  line  from  the  same  illustrious  ancestor.  As 
plump,  as  rosy  as  one  of  Rubens's  models,  her  wel- 
come in  Holland  was  warm.  W  hen,  in  1880,  her 
first  and  only  child  was  born,  there  was  no  sign  that 
the  baby  girl  would  ever  become  sovereign  of  the 
land  of  dikes  and  of  the  islands  of  spice  ;  for  Prince 
Alexander  was  then  young  and  apparently  healthy. 
Nevertheless,  at  four,  Wilhelmina  became  queen 
presumptive  by  the  death  of  the  king's  son.  In 
1890  her  father  died,  and  slept  with  his  ancestors 
in  the  Dutch  Westminster  Abbey  in  Delft.  The 
sweet-faced  child,  who  combines  several  lines  of 
descent  from  the  Father  of  the  Fatherland,  became 
Queen,  with  her  mother  as  regent  during  her 
minority. 

In  Wilhelmina  alone  lies  hope  of  the  continuation 
of  the  House  of  Orange  in  the  Netherlands.  From 
the  31st  of  August  to  the  15th  of  September  the 
Dutch  are  planning  to  give  full  vent  to  their  joy. 
The  tri-color  and  orange  are  not  the  most  restful 
to  the  human  eye,  and  a  return  in  mid-September 


QUEEN'S  MONTH  367 

to  the  tints  of  the  meadows  and  the  hues  of  the 
ocean  will  be  welcome  to  one's  optic  nerves. 

We  are  all  glad  to  see  the  queen-mother  honored. 
With  equal  wisdom  and  affection  she  has  trained 
her  daughter,  who,  besides  having  the  traits  and 
features  of  the  men  of  the  House  of  Orange,  has  a 
will  of  her  own.  True,  the  Hague  ladies,  while 
heartily  praising  Emma,  the  mother,  deem  it  neces- 
sary to.  their  ideas  of  patriotism  to  qualify  compli- 
ment with  criticism,  remarking  to  you  in  confidence : 
"  But  she  is  too  German."  For  be  it  known  to  all 
who  think  that  "  Dutch  and  German  are  about  the 
same "  that,  as  a  Leyden  gentleman  remarked  to 
me,  —  showing  that  the  location  of  what  we  call 
"  a  gulf  of  difference  "  was  reversed,  —  "  the  canal 
between  us  and  Germany  is  wider  and  deeper  than 
the  North  Sea." 

Evidences  of  preparation  on  a  national  scale  are 
manifest.  The  illuminating  companies  are  filling 
their  tanks,  and  the  gas-fitters  are  soldering  to- 
gether and  perforating  miles  of  piping  for  jets.  The 
letter  W,  now  the  most  popular  in  the  alphabet, 
is  already  everywhere  seen  in  every  possible  fabric 
and  material.  The  shops  blossom  with  portraits, 
paintings,  and  photographs,  and  with  busts  in 
plaster,  marble,  and  bronze  of  the  pretty  maiden 
who  already  rules  the  hearts  of  her  people  at  home 
and  at  the  ends  of  the  earth. 

My  first  day  ashore  when  alone  is  usually  one  of 
homesickness.  I  have  lost  the  comradeship  of  my 
fellow  ocean  voyagers,  and  have  broken  up  my  home 
on  the  ship,  while  on  land  I  have  not  yet  become 


368  THE   AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

interested  in  place  or  people.  This  time,  however, 
I  was  fortunate  in  having  at  the  Victoria  Hotel  with 
me  a  half-dozen  delightful  fellow  countrymen  and 
countrywomen,  and  in  the  evening  we  made  a  party 
to  enjoy  the  grand  concert  in  the  Zoological  Gar- 
den in  the  Queen's  honor. 

Next  morning,  in  the  Hague,  I  stopped  long 
enough  for  a  delightful  chat  with  the  American 
minister,  the  Honorable  Stanford  Newel,  who  like 
his  predecessor  is  of  New  England  ancestry,  and  a 
citizen  of  Minnesota.  From  the  preparations  in  the 
garden  and  with  perforated  gas-pipes  in  front  of  the 
houses,  it  seemed  hard  to  tell  which  would  most 
brightly  blossom,  the  flowers  of  earth  or  of  fire. 
On  the  day  before,  a  grand  military  review  had 
been  held,  and  in  the  evening  the  city  was  bril- 
liantly illuminated  in  honor  of  the  mother.  Queen 
Emma.  I  was  reminded  of  the  scene  in  1895,  when 
in  this  same  city  Queen  Wilhelmina  decorated  with 
her  own  hands  the  heroes  of  Lombok. 

In  Ley  den,  on  Pilgrim  ground,  I  spent  a  brace  of 
sunny  hours.  Fronting  the  statue  of  Burgomaster 
Van  der  Werff,  and  on  or  near  the  site  of  the  home 
of  Luzac,  I  read  in  the  gorgeous  flower-beds  and 
finely  tricked-out  foliage  colors  the  legend  of  glory 
to  Wilhelmina. 

From  the  Hague  I  went  on  to  Haarlem  to  see  the 
Kermis.  The  great  square  which  contains  the  statue 
of  Coster  holding  his  type  in  his  hand  was  filled 
with  the  apparatus  of  cheap  amusement. 

I  took  the  train  running  out  in  the  moonlight 
among  the  dunes  and  the  weird  grasses  waving  in 


QUEEN'S  MONTH  369 

the  night  winds.  I  passed  Bloemendaal,  Schooten, 
Zandpoort,  and  other  suburbs  of  Amsterdam,  cross- 
ing the  great  North  Sea  Canal,  and  arrived  at 
Beverwijk.  Here  1  came  out  of  sentimental  asso- 
ciations in  history,  both  colonial  and  modern,  and 
because  in  the  American  Beverwijk  Lyra  kept  her 
court  and  Cupid  was  my  pilot  during  a  happy  year. 
Sound  sleep  prepared  me  for  the  sights  and  investi- 
gations of  the  morning,  for  I  purposed  to  look  well 
into  this  original  of  the  city  on  the  Hudson  now 
called  Albany. 

In  Amsterdam  I  found  artists  and  artificers  busy 
in  getting  the  city  in  which  enthronements  always 
take  place  in  festal  array  for  the  Joyous  Entry  and 
the  festivities  of  the  royal  installation.  The  centre 
of  interest  was  the  Dam,  on  which  fronts  that  old 
city  hall,  built  in  the  days  of  the  Republic,  with  all 
the  doors  of  the  same  size  and  dignity,  now  called  a 
palace,  yet  remaining  without  any  special  or  impos- 
ing entrance.  While  the  Hague  is  the  residence  of 
the  court,  Amsterdam  is  the  real  capital  and  the 
place  of  inauguration.  Most  fitly  the  ugly  stone 
spike  in  the  square  between  the  palace  and  the  New 
Church  is  hidden  with  scaffolding.  In  place  of  the 
memorial  of  separation  and  war  between  Belgium 
and  Holland  in  1830  will  bloom  floral  and  fiery 
tokens  of  joy  and  peace.  Beneath  the  feet  of  the 
Lady  of  the  Dam,  who  as  the  fairest  feature  of  the 
monument  surmounts  it,  will  flow  from  dolphins' 
mouths  streams  of  water,  with  borders  of  flowers 
and  greenery. 

I  looked  into  the  Nieuwe    Kerk    (begun  a.  d. 


370  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

1408),  but  neither  on  week  nor  holy  day  could  one 
enter,  for  carpenter  and  decorator  were  preparing 
for  the  day  of  glory.  Yet  very  little  is  said  in  Hol- 
land about  the  "  coronation."  It  is  the  foreign 
newspapers  that  talk  about  crowns,  crown  jewels, 
and  the  lore  of  courts ;  here  the  term  is  "  inau- 
guration." Thousands  are  striving  to  get  entrance 
here  on  Tuesday,  September  6,  where  only  hun- 
dreds can  sit  or  stand  outside  the  space  reserved 
for  royalty,  the  States  General,  and  the  official 
body.  Nevertheless,  one  hundred  journalists  from 
all  over  the  world  are  elect  and  will  be  spectators. 
The  Circle  of  Netherlandish  Journalists  are  doing 
nobly  to  welcome  their  brethren  from  afar.  Al- 
though I  shall  represent  two  American  periodicals 
whose  names  are  widely  known,  yet  on  going  to  the 
headquarters  I  find  my  name  already  down  as  one  of 
the  especially  honored  guests  who,  apart  from  jour- 
nalistic credentials,  is  to  receive  invitation  to  witness 
the  inauguration  ceremony.  For  two  weeks  the  joy 
is  to  last.  The  fetes  and  spectacles  on  the  water  bid 
fair  to  eclipse  the  splendor  of  the  ceremonials  on 
land. 

Along  with  the  central  event  are  to  be  an  Inter- 
national Congress  of  History,  exhibitions  of  Rem- 
brandt's paintings  and  etchings,  of  national  costumes, 
and  of  objects  illustrating  the  history  of  the  House 
of  Orange.  The  three  great  cities  are  to  tender 
public  dinners  to  the  journalists  and  their  friends. 
Various  teas  and  receptions  by  cabinet  ministers, 
burgomasters,  and  the  marine  painter,  Mesdag, 
in  his  atelier,  excursions  to  polders  and  to  Edam, 


QUEEN'S  MONTH  371 

capital  of  cheese-land,  and  to  Marken,  Arnhem,  and 
other  places  renowned,  with  visits  to  Holland's  ar- 
tistic, industrial,  and  engineering  wonders  will  fill  up 
the  fortnight,  all  culminating  in  the  great  naval  re- 
view of  September  17.  Each  journalist  is  to  receive 
a  souvenir  volume  prepared  by  the  practiced  pens 
of  nearly  two  -  score  writers.  This  will  show  the 
Netherlands,  her  people,  rulers,  colonies,  literature, 
art,  government,  and  resources,  and  political  parties 
as  they  are  in  this  year  of  grace  1898,  —  a  volume 
(in  French)  of  a  half  a  thousand  pages  and  of  vast 
value,  as  I  can  testify,  after  reading. 

My  "  open  sesame  "  into  the  great  cavern  of  riches 
which  a  month  from  now  will  reveal  its  treasures 
is  in  the  form  of  a  red  morocco  "  carnet."  Six  by 
three  and  a  half  inches  in  measure,  it  is  stamped  in 
gold  on  the  outside  with  the  blazon  of  De  Neder- 
landsche  Journalistenkring. 

This  red  "  carnet "  is  to  make  the  doors  of  galleries, 
exhibitions,  and  public  edifices  fly  open,  persuade  a 
policeman  to  pilot  me  through  a  crowd,  clothe  me 
as  in  triple  slabs  of  steel,  even  in  the  presence  of 
swords  and  bayonets,  allowing  me  to  walk  where  the 
crowd  is  kept  back.  Opening  it,  I  find  on  the  right 
hand  the  stamp  of  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs 
and  his  signature,  with  that  also  of  the  president  of 
the  Press  Committee,  Dr.  Abraham  Kuyper,  while 
on  the  left  must  be  the  photograph  of  the  holder. 
All  these  precautions  are  taken  not  only  for  the  dele- 
gate's personal  comfort,  but  in  order  that  no  anar- 
chist or  assassin  may  wear  the  livery  of  law  or  enjoy 
hospitality,  while  meditating  his  murderous  work.    I 


372  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

shall  be  equipped  also  with  an  eight-pointed  white 
star,  hung  by  red  ribbon.  It  is  stamped  with  an 
olive  branch  inclosing  an  open  book  and  feather 
pen,  above  which  is  the  crown,  and  in  the  points 
"5-9  Sept.  1898." 

I  am  told  that  I  must  have  my  photograph  at 
once,  so  off  I  hie  to  the  Spui  and  get  a  picture.  After 
this,  taking  no  thought  for  the  morrow  of  a  month 
hence,  I  dine  at  the  house  of  a  Dutch  scholar  on 
Prinz  Hendrik  Kade.  I  find  a  delightful  party. 
Wife  ("  vrouwje "),  two  daughters,  older  son  and 
his  betrothed,  and  a  rector's  daughter  from  England 
make  an  hour  golden-winged.  Then,  in  the  garden, 
after-dinner  tea  is  served.  After  another  ramble 
in  the  Dam  and  Kalver  Straat  I  go  to  sleep  to  the 
lullaby  of  the  carillon. 

I  have  a  day  left,  before  I  leave  Holland  to  cross 
the  North  Sea  for  an  August  holiday  in  London, 
Cromwell's  country,  the  Pilgrim  district,  ancestral 
haunts  in  Nottinghamshire,  and  Bonnie  Scotland, 
including  Ion  a.  Staff  a,  and  CuUoden.  Where  shall 
I  spend  my  Dutch  day  ?  I  decide  on  a  triangular 
run  through  the  central  province.  I  love  to  see  an 
old  city  in  fresh  morning  light,  as  well  as  under  the 
night  shadows.  I  reach  Utrecht,  rich  in  flowers, 
and  the  ecclesiastical  capital,  and  ramble  through  its 
quiet  streets  to  the  little  steamer  platform.  I  ride 
down  the  canal  to  Yreeswijk.  How  cool  it  is  even 
in  August !  I  take  steamer  to  Culemburg.  While 
floating  on  Holland's  waters  and  studying  the  life  of 
the  people,  I  have  a  delightful  chat  with  a  Dutch 
schoolmaster  who    lives  at  Ijselstein,  —  town    that 


QUEEN'S  MONTH  373 

recalls  pleasant  folk  of  that  name.  Thence  I  ride 
to  Boxtel,  spending  an  hour  or  two  in  the  sleepy 
place.  I  take  train  for  Kotterdam,  and  there  I  have 
three  or  four  hours  before  getting  into  the  steamer- 
cradle  which  shall  rock  me  over  to  England.  This 
is  a  bright  moonlight  night  with  lively  breezes,  and 
the  boat  to  Harwich  will  bounce  gayly  up  and  down, 
before  I  touch  terra  firma  again.  I  shall  have  sea- 
thrill  in  place  of  mal  de  mer.  I  like  not  the  rolling, 
but  the  pitching  is  delight.  So,  as  Rotterdam  has 
just  finished  a  brand-new  "  concert-gebouw,"  or  a  mu- 
sic hall,  I  go  for  an  evening's  entertainment.  Here 
a  delightful  surprise  meets  me,  which  thrills  every 
patriotic  nerve.     Let  me  explain. 

When  war  broke  out  between  Spain  and  the 
United  States,  it  was  interesting  for  Americans  to 
know  what  attitude  the  Dutch  would  take  in  regard 
to  the  matter.  I  took  the  trouble  to  inquire,  from 
Holland's  newspapers,  and  by  writing  to  Dutch 
friends,  both  private  and  prominent  in  public  life. 
The  Spaniards  were  the  ancient  oppressors  of  the 
Dutch.  Their  war  for  freedom  had  been  with  the 
Iberians.  Nobody  in  Holland  defended  Spanish 
methods  of  government,  and  it  was  generally  con- 
ceded and  frankly  expressed  that  "  Hispanje  "  had 
lost  all  rights  to  remain  as  a  colonial  power.  Never- 
theless, the  stock-jobbers  and  manipulators  of  finance 
had  been  very  active  in  the  money  markets  and  news- 
paper offices.  Besides  touching  the  pocket  nerve  of 
the  Dutchmen,  they  exaggerated  all  the  iniquity  of 
President  McKinley  and  his  countrymen,  believing 
in  "  petroleum  bombs  "  and  other  fictions.     Hence, 


374  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

opinion  among  the  Dutch  was  divided.  Except  in 
vague  ecclesiastical  sympathies,  there  was  no  kindly 
feeling  among  the  Dutch  toward  Spain. 

Yet  sympathy  with  the  United  States  was  not 
very  warm.  It  was  thought  that  the  war  had  been 
precipitated  for  the  purposes  of  annexation,  and  that 
destiny  would  be  on  the  side  of  the  almighty  dollar. 
The  agricultural  classes  in  the  Netherlands  do  not 
of  course  enjoy  American  competition,  but  the  mer- 
chants and  traders  look  more  leniently  upon  our 
general  national  polity.  Nevertheless,  the  reckless 
exaggerations  and  the  abominable  headlines  of  our 
"  yellow  "  newspapers  are  disgusting  to  the  serious- 
minded  Hollander.  In  a  word,  we  Americans  did 
not  at  first  impress  the  majority  of  Dutchmen  with 
either  the  purity  of  our  motives  or  with  the  righteous- 
ness of  our  cause. 

But  there  was  a  single  newspaper  in  Amsterdam, 
one  of  the  ablest  in  the  Netherlands,  which  from 
the  first,  steered  by  its  brilliant  and  accomplished 
editor,  Mr.  Charles  Boissevain,  illuminated  the  situ- 
ation, freeing  it  from  caricature  and  exaggeration. 
He  showed  the  righteousness  of  American  inter- 
ference in  Cuba,  and  prophesied  not  only  success  to 
our  arms,  but  the  just  treatment  of  our  conquered 
enemy.  Even  before  Santiago's  surrender,  or  Samp- 
son's victory  over  Cervera,  the  tide  of  Dutch  sympa- 
thy turned  toward  the  American  side. 

That  evening,  in  the  Rotterdam  Concert  Hall,  I 
was  "carried  to  Paradise  on  the  stairway  of  sur- 
prise." After  the  usual  songs,  jokes,  and  light  at- 
tractions, out  came  a  band  of  seven  English  girls. 


QUEEN'S  MONTH  375 

These,  after  singing  smartly,  received  an  encore. 
Dressed  so  that  nothing  was  visible  except  their 
faces,  they  were  also  girded  about  with  tiny  globes, 
and  gloried  in  their  invisible  harness  of  electric  wires, 
so  that  when  they  stepped  upon  the  metal  marks  on 
the  stage,  they  glowed  with  a  splendor  not  their 
own. 

My  surprise  was  in  this,  that  in  response  to  the 
applause,  their  queen  of  light  and  fire  brought  for- 
ward a  trophy,  much  taller  than  herself,  on  the  top 
of  which  was  the  American  eagle,  with  the  draped 
banner  of  stars  and  stripes.  Beneath  the  bird  was 
the  lion  of  Holland,  and  on  either  side  the  same 
colors  common  to  both  countries,  the  red,  white,  and 
blue.  Lifting  the  double  symbol  and  waving  it,  she 
led  the  music,  in  which  the  whole  seven  joined  with 
dash  and  enthusiasm,  singing  "  Columbia,  the  Gem 
of  the  Ocean."  After  tremendous  applause,  the 
girls  sang  with  equal  spirit  Tollens's  stirring  patri- 
otic song,  "  Wien  Neerlandsch  Bloed."  When  again 
the  applause  thundered  forth,  it  was  difficult  to  tell 
which  in  volume  or  sincerity  was  the  greater,  the 
tribute  to  American  or  to  Dutch  glory. 

At  the  end  of  August  I  again  crossed  the  North 
Sea,  meeting  as  fellow  passenger  Dr.  E.  T.  Cor- 
win,  whose  researches  and  transcripts  from  Dutch 
ecclesiastical  archives  will  see  light  in  a  volume  to 
be  published  by  the  State  of  New  York,  the  Scottish 
pastor  of  the  Begijn  Hof  Church  in  Amsterdam, 
and  Professor  Takahashi,  the  legal  historian  of  the 
Chino-Japanese  war,  on  his  way,  like  myself,  to  the 
Congress  of  Diplomatic  History  at  the  Hague.     On 


376  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

the  30th  I  was  back  again  in  Amsterdam,  seeing  the 
city  in  festal  array,  securing  my  red  "  carnet,"  din- 
ing again  in  the  hospitable  home  on  the  Heeren- 
gracht,  in  which  the  babies  of  1891  had  grown  to 
be  promising  boys  and  rosy  maid.  The  next  morn- 
ing I  was  awakened  by  the  merry  chimes  of  the 
"  Wilhelmus  Lied  "  and  the  patriotic  airs  from  the 
palace  tower  and  church  spires.  Now  for  a  fort- 
night of  festivities,  but  first  to  the  Congress  of 
History  at  the  Hague. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

THE  JOYOUS  ENTRY 

Amsterdam,  September  5,  1898.  "  It  is  dark  at 
the  base  of  the  lantern."  This  Japanese  proverb  has 
been  well  illustrated  in  this  month  of  the  birthday 
of  two  queens  in  Holland.  The  very  nearness  in 
language,  inheritance,  ideas,  and  manners  of  the 
Dutch  to  the  English-speaking  peoples  serves  to  ex- 
aggerate into  caricatures  outward  differences,  and  to 
"  make  darkness  visible."  I  could  easily  compile 
enough  blunders,  perpetrated  by  pens,  pictures,  and 
types  in  American  and  British  journals,  concerning 
recent  Dutch  events  and  persons,  to  show  what  a 
comparatively  unknown  land  Holland  still  is.  To 
represent  Queen  Wilhelmina  as  "  crowned "  in  a 
Roman  Catholic  cathedral  or  a  Lutheran  church 
edifice,  or  to  talk  of  "  the  compact  entered  into  by 
William  the  Silent  in  1813  "  (!),  or  to  draw  close 
analogies  with  the  coronation  ceremonies  of  absolute 
monarchs  like  the  Czar,  is  to  turn  Dutch  history 
into  something  like  opera  bouffe.  The  truth  is  quite 
different.  In  telling  my  story  I  shall  speak  of  what 
I  know  and  have  seen. 

The  white  star  which  I  wore  made  every  police- 
man my  guide,  protector,  and  friend  in  densest 
crowds.    My  red  "  carnet "  proved  a  veritable  "  open 


378  THE   AMERICAN  IN   HOLLAND 

sesame  "  to  many  doors.  It  put  me  in  the  best  places 
for  observation  and  hearing,  and  in  the  Nieuwe 
Kerk,  directly  in  front  of  the  Queen,  when  she 
read  her  brief  address,  which  is  already  a  classic,  — 
I  do  not  hesitate  to  call  it  this,  —  and  when  she 
took  solemn  oath  to  her  people  to  maintain  their 
rights,  and  uttered  her  prayer  :  "  Zoo  waarlijk  helpe 
mij  God  almachtig !  "  (So  help  me  truly,  Almighty 
God!) 

There  was  no  coronation  proper.  To  say  that 
Nederland  is  a  democratic  monarchy  is  not  contra- 
diction, it  is  a  statement  of  balance  and  harmony. 
The  queen  did  not  even  wear  a  crown,  but  only  a 
tiara,  —  and  this,  despite  the  stories  of  the  old  spoil 
from  Java  and  the  new  loot  from  Lombok  and  Java. 
The  whole  programme  was  planned  for  the  people's 
enjoyment,  and  not  for  a  favored  few  of  "  the  court." 
There  was  no  "religious"  ceremony,  that  is,  no 
ecclesiastical  formula  or  monopoly ;  but,  as  befits 
this  land  of  long  toleration  and  the  leader  among 
nations  in  freedom  of  conscience,  Jew  and  Christian, 
Protestant  and  Roman  Catholic,  Mennonite,  Lu- 
theran, and  Reformed,  took  oath  and  made  invoca- 
tion to  the  Deity  in  his  own  way.  Brief,  impressive, 
thrilling,  was  this  inauguration  of  a  constitutional 
ruler  over  a  free  people.  In  spirit  and  in  form  the 
ceremony  of  September  6  was  the  renewal  of  the 
ancient  covenant  of  affection  and  loyalty  between 
the  House  of  Orange  and  the  Dutch  people,  in  mu- 
tual obedience  to  the  constitution,  that  fundamental 
law  of  the  land  which  governs  both  ruler  and  ruled. 
Never  will  the  thriU  imparted  by  that  clear,  strong, 
sweet  voice  be  forgotten,  as  she  spoke :  — 


THE  JOYOUS  ENTRY  379 

"  I  count  myself  happy  to  rule  the  Dutch  people, 
small  in  number,  but  great  in  courage,  great  in 
nature  and  in  character. 

"  The  words  of  my  ever-to-be-remembered  father 
I  make  wholly  my  own :  '  The  House  of  Orange  can 
never,  no  never,  do  enough  for  the  Netherlands.' " 

Thus  is  the  spirit  of  William  the  Silent,  lover  of 
the  people,  maintainer  of  right  and  law,  servant  of 
servants,  incarnated  in  this  fair  maiden  of  eighteen, 
strong  in  will,  gracious  in  manner,  lovely  in  person. 

Wilhelmina's  proclamation  to  her  people  and  the 
inaugural  address  in  the  church  were  her  own  com- 
positions, scarcely  touched  by  her  mother  and  gladly 
approved  in  both  chambers  of  the  States  General ; 
and  the  same  voice  that  filled  and  thrilled  all  under- 
standing hearers  in  the  church  surprised  and  moved, 
by  its  remarkable  sweetness  and  power,  the  guests 
at  the  state  banquet  in  the  palace. 

In  the  south  transept  of  the  "  New  Church,"  built 
before  America  was  discovered,  one  may  now  see 
the  splendid  window,  just  unveiled,  of  stained  glass 
and  colossal  proportions,  the  gift  of  the  people  to 
the  Queen,  which  shows,  by  historic  figures  and  in 
allegory,  the  union  of  the  House  of  Orange  and  the 
Netherlands.  With  richest  colors,  sheathed  in  light, 
it  pictures  William,  Maurice,  Frederick  Henry,  and 
the  other  four  Williams,  all  stadholders  of  the 
Republic,  with  their  consorts,  Louise  de  Coligny, 
Amalia  van  Solms,  Marie  Stuart ;  and  (after  "  the 
Dutch  took  Holland"  from  their  French  "deliv- 
erers "  in  1813)  the  three  kings,  William  I.,  II., 
III.,  and  Queen  Emma.    Beneath  this  double  row  of 


380  THE   AMERICAN   IN   HOLLAND 

worthies,  republican  and  regal,  are  two  allegorical 
pictures  that  begin  and  bring  to  date  the  nation's 
modern  history.  In  one,  William  of  Orange  makes 
a  covenant  of  love  and  service  with  the  seven  states 
federated  by  the  Union  of  Utrecht  in  1579.  In  the 
other,  Wilhelmina,  holding  the  Bible,  receives  as  a 
heavenly  gift  the  Grondwet  (constitution),  and  thus 
the  ancient  covenant  of  a  family  rich  in  nature's 
noblemen  with  a  free  nation  is  sealed  again. 

Grand  and  appropriate  is  this  picture  wrought  in 
material  through  which  heaven's  light  may  ever 
stream ;  for,  from  palace  to  hut  in  the  Low  Coun- 
tries, from  Axel  to  Finsterwolde,  and  from  Coe- 
worden  to  the  Hoek  of  Holland,  the  Bible  is  read, 
loved,  and  honored  as  from  God,  —  the  foundation 
of  home  and  state.  Yet  here,  in  this  land  rescued 
from  the  very  ocean,  on  which  the  Dutch  "  found 
bread  and  a  sword,"  ever  since  William  (Catholic 
and  Lutheran  by  birth  and  education  and  Calvinist 
by  conviction)  protected  the  Anabaptists,  —  true 
spiritual  ancestors  of  a  majority  of  English-speaking 
Christians,  —  conscience  has  been  free.  Perfect  lib- 
erty was  not,  is  not,  found  anywhere  on  earth,  but 
it  has  been  ever  strong  and  deep  and  wide  in  Hol- 
land. On  the  day  of  the  inauguration  the  clouds 
broke  with  impressive  timeliness,  and  the  jeweled 
maiden  in  white,  majestic  in  person  and  glorious  in 
all  her  environment,  yet  also  most  winsome  in  char- 
acter, stood  radiant  in  the  sun's  tempered  light,  the 
charm  of  all  eyes. 

This  was  the  central  event  in  that  honeymoon  of 
festivities  which  began  on  Wilhelmina's  birthday, 


THE  JOYOUS  ENTRY  381 

August  31,  and  ends  on  September  17,  by  which 
time  the  Queen  will  need  a  long  nap  at  Soestdijk. 

Nineteen  years  ago,  herself  descended  from 
William  the  Silent  and  the  Princess  of  Waldeck- 
Pyrmont,  Emma  wedded  "the  old  king,"  William 
III.  The  baby  born  the  next  year  redeemed  the 
monarch's  waning  popularity  and  gave  joy  to  the 
nation.  This  year,  on  the  eve  of  her  daughter's 
majority,  in  a  tender  address  to  the  people,  she  re- 
signed her  station  as  queen-regent.  Wilhelmina's 
strong  and  beautiful  proclamation  came  next  day, 
and  was  read  in  the  churches  in  which  the  people  of 
all  forms  of  worship  met  by  myriads.  After  this  — 
for  the  Dutch  are  devout  first  —  began  the  fun  and 
play.  The  covetous  and  severe  groaned,  and  some 
of  the  shopkeepers  of  Amsterdam  fell  into  grief, 
wishing  "  the  whole  thing  soon  over,"  for  absolutely 
no  business  could  be  done  during  four  days.  The 
joyful  arrangements  for  the  many  brought  derange- 
ments to  the  few  during  a  week  or  more. 

To  attempt  description  of  the  decorations  and  il- 
luminations and  of  the  crowds,  —  singing,  dancing, 
overflowing  with  good  humor,  tickling  each  other 
with  "American  fun-makers"  (peacock  feathers), 
and  making  Laocoon  groups  of  each  other  by  miles 
of  colored  paper  rolls  and  strips,  —  or  to  tell  of  the 
music  and  art,  the  costumes  and  architecture,  would 
be  useless  and  tedious.  Yet  I  must  note  some  of 
the  more  intellectual  and  aesthetic  ways  of  the  inau- 
guration, as  well  as  those  which  pleased  the  eye  and 
the  palate. 

This  is  woman's  century,  and  perhaps  the  next 


382  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

will  even  more  be  hers.  In  the  Hague  the  national 
exhibition  of  woman's  work  in  all  lines  of  endeavor 
was  a  most  suggestive  and  impressive  display,  show- 
ing, in  light  and  shadow,  astonishing  needs,  but 
great  progress.  Although  every  town  and  village 
proves  how  good  a  helpmeet  for  the  man  the  Dutch 
woman  is,  there  is  no  Wellesley  or  Vassar  College 
here  yet.  In  the  Congress  of  Diplomatic  History 
held  at  the  Hague  September  1-4,  one  could  see 
again  how  often  the  Dutch  Kepublic  had  served  as 
neutral  ground  for  the  meeting  of  the  peace  envoys 
of  many  nations.  In  Amsterdam  the  imposing  col- 
lections of  Rembrandt's  portraits  and  pictures 
showed,  with  fresh  emphasis,  the  power  of  this  king 
of  shadows,  master  of  light  that  reveals  not  its 
source,  matchless  portray er  of  the  human  face, 
painter  of  Puritanism,  realistic  interpreter  of  truth 
in  all  forms,  and  lover  of  golden-browns.  In  the 
same  building  were  the  exhibitions  of  modern  art, 
the  gallery  of  historical  paintings,  showing  Neth- 
erlandish history  from  Civilis  to  Thorbecke,  the 
museum  of  relics  of  the  House  of  Orange,  and  the 
display  of  the  hundred  or  more  varieties  of  national 
costumes. 

At  the  House  of  the  Press  on  Saturday  evening, 
where  I  found  over  one  hundred  ladies  and  gentle- 
men from  many  lands,  and  at  the  mansion  of  the 
burgomaster,  where  jewels  flashed  and  orders  and 
decorations  gleamed,  we  had  our  first  taste  in  1898 
of  Amsterdam's  hospitality.  The  happy  season  had 
been  opened  with  a  royal  shower  of  decorations  as 
rich  as  that  which  fell  in  the  lap  of  Danae  of  my- 


THE  JOYOUS  ENTRY  383 

thology.  I  recognized  the  names  of  many  Dutch 
friends,  men  of  science,  art,  and  letters,  thus  adorned. 

On  Monday  of  the  Kroningsfeest  seventy  thou- 
sand trained  children  sang  in  the  public  schools  of 
Amsterdam,  and  received  as  many  silvered  commem- 
orative medals.  Soon  after  sunrise  people  began 
to  mass  in  the  thoroughfares  leading  to  the  Dam. 
Most  Dutch  cities  began  on  a  "  terp,"  or  artificial 
mound,  to  which  the  prehistoric  amphibious  folk 
rushed  for  refuge  when  floods  rolled  in.  By  and  by 
the  "  terp  "  became  the  "  dorp,"  or  village,  when  the 
ground  had  been  faced  with  timber  and  a  dam  built 
to  hold  the  land  fast.  Gradually,  by  dams  and 
canals,  which  helped  to  drain  the  spongy  land,  the 
cellarless  houses  were  built,  and  the  streets,  named 
usually  after  the  trades  and  occupations,  the  churches, 
the  cloisters,  the  saints,  or  the  heroes,  were  laid  out. 
So  grew  up  the  dam  on  the  Amstel,  or  Amsterdam, 
which  the  herrings  first  made  rich,  and  over  which 
Gijsbert,  the  feudal  lord,  ruled.  In  the  fifteenth 
century  the  Great  Church  was  built,  its  most  inter- 
esting corner  being  at  Moses-and- Aaron  Street  and 
Dam,  —  strange  combination  to  English  ears.  Not 
until  Spanish  tyranny  was  forever  quelled  for 
Dutchmen,  in  1648,  after  the  eighty  years'  struggle, 
was  the  superb  city  hall,  now  the  palace,  reared. 
"  Called  the  eighth  wonder  of  the  world,"  it  stands 
on  over  13,000  piles. 

Our  tribune,  or  platform,  was  built  on  the  roof 
of  the  commandery  directly  opposite  the  veranda 
on  which  Wilhelmina  was  to  appear.  After  hours 
spent  in  seeing  the  drill  and  evolutions  of  the  body- 


384  THE   AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

guard  of  Prince  Maurice,  in  seventeenth-century 
costume,  and  in  studying  the  crowd  while  waiting, 
the  joyful  boom  of  the  cannon  announced  her  com- 
ing. The  military,  sailors,  infantry,  and  cavalry 
first  moved  in  and  filled  the  square.  Then,  in  a 
carriage  drawn  by  eight  horses  with  postilions,  ap- 
peared two  ladies,  one  young  and  fair,  in  white,  the 
other  substantial  in  years  and  figure,  dressed  in  silk 
of  a  heliotrope  shade.  Bowing  right  and  left,  waving 
her  light  pocket-handkerchief,  Wilhelmina  seemed 
not  only  overflowing  with  happiness  herself,  but  to 
put  the  clouds  of  spectators  on  the  houses  and 
the  people  below  into  a  state  of  unmeasured  de- 
light. She  rode  around  the  square,  disappeared 
for  a  few  moments  in  the  one  doorway  made  differ- 
ent from  the  others  only  by  a  velvet  canopy,  —  for 
the  palace  has  no  one  imposing  entrance,  —  and 
reappeared  on  the  veranda.  Then  all  banners 
dipped,  swords  gleamed  in  salute,  and  muskets  were 
held  to   a  "  present." 

Then  came  the  episode  in  itself  impressive  and, 
in  the  light  of  history,  true  to  all  the  past.  With 
admirable  celerity  and  order,  the  military  filed  out, 
and  again  the  great  square  was  vacant.  A  few  min- 
utes more  and,  at  the  signal  given,  joyously,  but 
with  deliberation,  the  crowd  moved  forward  to  the 
Palace.  The  seals  upon  the  seven  streets  were  loos- 
ened, and  within  three  minutes  vacancy  had  given 
way  to  a  myriad  of  human  beings.  There  were  the 
people  of  Holland.  Before  them  stood  on  the  bal- 
cony the  lovely  figure  in  white  again.  The  Queen 
was  with  her  own  people.     "  Excess  of  joy  weeps." 


THE  JOYOUS  ENTRY  385 

Amid  huzzas  and  songs  and  waving  handkerchiefs 
and  flags  were  not  a  few  dim  and  flowing  eyes. 
The  child  of  all  hopes,  the  woman  who  incarnated 
to  them  the  stirring  memories  of  mighty  events  and 
great  leaders,  was  before  her  people.  Thencefor- 
ward, merrily,  often  with  boisterous  fun,  but  happily 
and  innocently,  the  populace  had  the  day  and  the 
night  for  themselves.  It  was  long  after  morning 
hours  had  begun  that  silence  reigned  in  Amsterdam. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 
THE  ROYAL   INAUGURATION 

Amsterdam,  September  6,  1898.  Inauguration 
morning  dawned  with  carillons  from  church  spires, 
and  the  thunder  of  cannon,  but  the  skies  were 
cloudy  and  the  air  chill.  Yet  when  did  "  the  sun  of 
Orange  "  fail  to  shine  ?  Fortunately,  not  only  ad- 
mitted within  the  Nieuwe  Kerk,  but  having  a  cap- 
ital seat  immediately  over  the  middle  aisle  and  in 
direct  line  from  the  throne-chair,  I  passed  the  hour 
of  waiting  pleasantly  in  watching  the  dignitaries  and 
incomers  of  many  nations  as  they  proceeded  in  their 
gorgeous  array  to  their  assigned  positions.  In  this 
New  Church,  built  in  the  fourteenth  century,  but 
several  times  renovated,  the  three  previous  kings 
were  "  inaugurated." 

As  matter  of  fact,  in  the  actual  ceremonies  the 
representatives  of  the  nation  and  the  people  had 
very  nearly  the  same  place  and  dignity  as  the  sov- 
ereign or  chief  servant  of  the  Netherlands  herself. 
The  throne-chair  was  presented,  as  the  tarnished 
silver  embroidered  inscription  in  the  back  shows,  by 
the  Russian  Princess  Anna  Paulowna,  who  married 
into  the  House  of  Orange,  and  whose  name  is  hap- 
pily associated  with  noble  trees  and  fertile  polders. 
Beside  the  chair  on  which  W  was  wrought  in  gold  was 


THE  ROYAL  INAUGURATION  387 

one  to  the  left  for  "  the  king's  widow,"  Emma.  In 
front,  on  a  table,  lay  the  crown  and  the  cross-topped 
sphere,  emblem  of  empire,  and,  between  the  two,  a 
written  and  a  printed  copy  of  the  Grondwet,  or 
constitution. 

On  the  church  walls  were  set  coats  of  arms  of  the 
eleven  provinces  of  the  Netherlands,  with  a  great 
band  in  orange  and  gold  running  round  nave  and 
transepts,  containing,  in  its  original  old  Dutch,  a 
stanza  of  the  "  Wilhelmus  Lied."  The  music  of  this 
stirring  national  anthem,  written  by  Van  Marnix,  is 
now  heard  on  aU  the  streets,  and  has  echoed  down 
the  centuries  from  the  days  when  the  trumpeters  of 
the  triumphant  Republic  blew  its  notes  in  defiance 
or  victory.  Its  words  contain  the  whole  philosophy 
of  the  Eighty  Years'  War,  when  a  people  who  would 
have  no  monarch  that  was  not  also  a  servant,  and 
who  by  law  had  only  counts,  but  no  king,  rose  in 
arms  against  Philip  II.  of  Spain,  false  claimant  to  a 
throne  that  did  not  exist.  Prince  William  led  a 
people  to  triumph,  organizing  success  out  of  defeat. 

Between  the  arches  in  the  church  hung  fine  bro- 
cade of  orange  color  crusted  with  gold-embroidered 
orange  fruit,  leaf,  and  blossom.  The  magnificent 
brass  screen  which  separates  the  tomb  of  De  Ruyter 
and  the  old  place  of  the  high  altar  of  pre-Reforma- 
tion  days  was  covered  with  richest  oriental  stuffs 
blazing  with  the  motto  of  Father  WiUiam  and  of 
the  Dutch  nation,  "  Je  maintiendrai."  To-day  it  is 
a  fair  maiden  of  eighteen  who  "  will  maintain." 

From  my  own  seat  I  could  see  the  elect  of  Nether- 
lands and  the  guests  from  many  countries  gathered 


388  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

in  the  Nieuwe  Kerk.  Embroidered  coats,  orders, 
and  decorations  on  the  breasts  of  men  of  achievement, 
all  the  pomp  and  splendor  of  the  heroes  of  army  and 
navy,  all  the  gorgeousness  of  richly  gowned  and 
jeweled  ladies,  were  there.  The  purple  and  black  of 
the  Koman  Catholic  bishops,  the  Lutheran  and  Re- 
formed pastors  in  caps  and  robes,  the  Jewish  rabbis, 
the  consuls,  the  gold-collared  members  of  the  States 
General,  made  enough  variety  in  color ;  but  the 
Chinese  envoys,  the  diplomatic  corps,  the  vassal 
princes  of  East  India,  were  dazzling  in  bullion, 
color,  feathers,  swords,  and  medals.  It  must  not 
be  forgotten  that  Queen  Wilhelmina  rules,  besides 
her  six  million  Dutch  subjects,  about  thirty-five 
millions  of  the  Malay  race  in  the  East  Indian  archi- 
pelago, of  whom  at  least  half  are  Mohammedans. 
Holland  is  the  greatest  colonizing  nation  after 
Great  Britain.  The  Sultan  of  Siak,  —  I  should  need 
two  lines  to  write  his  full  name  and  titles,  —  and  the 
deputed  envoys  of  other  Malay  rulers,  and  the 
large  delegation  from  the  Far  East,  with  their  odd 
headgear  and  golden  garments,  have  made  a  strik- 
ing feature  in  all  the  spectacles  of  this  week. 

By  eleven  o'clock  the  red-covered  platform  was 
filled  with  grandees,  and  the  queen-mother,  who 
rode  from  the  palace,  was  in  her  seat  next  on  the  left 
to  the  chair  soon  to  be  filled.  Wilhelmina,  with  her 
usual  democratic  determination,  had  willed  to  walk 
from  the  palace  to  the  chair  occupied  before  her  by 
her  father  and  grandfather.  After  hearing  a  storm 
of  popular  cheering,  we  saw  the  maiden  in  white 
and  diamonds,  wearing  over  her  breast  an  orange 


THE  ROYAL  INAUGURATION  389 

scarf  with  a  glittering  star,  and  the  velvet  and 
ermine  robe  of  royalty  sweeping  from  her  shoulders. 
Its  train  was  held  up  and  then  duly  spread  after  she 
had  taken  her  seat.  About  her  stood  her  cabinet, 
ministers,  and  flag-bearers  ;  in  front  sat  her  legisla- 
tors. Between  both,  on  the  red-velvet-covered  table, 
as  I  have  said,  were,  indeed,  the  crown  and  sphere, 
emblems  of  royalty,  but  in  the  centre,  supreme  over 
all,  lay  the  written  constitution  of  the  nation. 

Almost  as  simple  as  an  American  inauguration 
was  this  of  the  Dutch  Queen,  in  a  kingdom  that 
secures  even  more  liberty  than  was  known  in  the 
Republic  of  1579-1792.  It  consisted  mainly  of  a 
remarkably  clear  and  strong  address  by  a  young 
girl  who  in  person  and  carriage  looked  every  inch  a 
queen,  and  the  mutual  exchange  of  oaths  of  obedi- 
ence to  the  constitution  by  her  and  the  members  of 
her  States  General.  Every  word  was  distinctly  heard. 
The  whole  ceremony  lasted  less  than  an  hour.  There 
was  some  music.  Then  all  flags  dipped,  and,  in  a 
storm  of  cheers,  waving  of  hats,  and  cries  of  "  Live 
the  Queen,"  the  auditors  slowly  separated,  delighted 
with  the  dignity,  sweetness,  and  power  to  win  hearts 
shown  by  this  fair  maid.  The  blending  of  girlish 
simplicity,  womanly  dignity,  and  a  true  wisdom  and 
insight,  disclosed  in  her  speeches,  carriage,  and  acts, 
augurs  happily  for  the  Netherlands.  Especially  care- 
ful has  she  been  to  please  the  people,  —  the  sailors, 
country-folk,  fishermen,  and  women,  and  the  island- 
ers who  have  come  to  see  the  sights,  and  the  sight 
of  all,  —  the  first  lady  of  the  Vaderland.  Both 
in  the  afternoon   and  in  the  evening,  mother  and 


390  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

daughter  rode  through  decorated  Amsterdam,  when 
the  sky  was  almost  hid  from  view  by  flags,  festoons, 
arches,  and  mid-air  fantasies,  in  which,  with  the 
red,  white,  and  blue,  was  everywhere  seen  the  orange 
color.  At  night  the  double  glory  of  reality  and 
reflection  along  the  canals,  and  the  white  spangles 
and  blazing  frontlets  of  fire,  made  a  scene  indescrib- 
able. 

Even  the  Dutch  Puritans  never  parted  with  their 
organs,  music,  and  art.  On  Wednesday  morning, 
arrayed  in  light  green,  Wilhelmina  on  the  palace 
veranda  listened  to  the  old  national  airs  and  the 
new  anthems,  one  or  two  of  which  are  by  the  vener- 
able Nicholas  Beets,  author  of  "  Camera  Obscura," 
and  living,  at  the  age  of  eighty-six,  in  Utrecht. 
After  this  morning  music,  a  great  Volksfeest  was 
held  in  the  vast  arena  back  of  the  Rijks  Museum, 
where,  before  her  Majesty,  the  gymnastic  societies 
from  all  over  the  country  marched,  dipped  banners, 
and  exhibited  skill  and  prowess  in  muscle.  None 
of  Diedrich  Knickerbocker's  men  of  the  beer-bar- 
rel model,  or  of  Irving's  caricatures,  could  be  seen 
here,  but  only  clean-limbed,  handsome  manhood. 
One  beautiful  sight  was  the  release  in  flight  of  forty- 
five  hundred  homing  pigeons.  A  wavering  cloud  of 
whirring  white  pigeons  mottled  for  a  moment  the 
blue  of  heaven,  and  then,  winging  their  way  to  city, 
village,  and  hamlet  all  over  the  kingdom,  they  car- 
ried with  them  the  message  and  greetings  from  the 
Queen.  I  gathered  up  as  souvenirs  a  score  or  more 
of  feathers  dropped  from  the  pinions  of  the  released 
prisoners. 


THE  ROYAL  INAUGURATION  391 

Then  followed  a  striking  costume  procession,  in 
which  the  makers  of  Dutch  history  moved  in  charm- 
ing counterfeit  before  our  eyes.  Warriors  and  states- 
men, stadholders  and  kings,  painters,  explorers,  print- 
ers, in  living  pictures  that  had  apparently  just  left  the 
canvas  and  frames  of  Rembrandt  and  Jan  Steen, 
marched  by  in  the  exact  dress  of  the  various  periods. 
But  how  we  did  pity  them  as  they  sweltered  in  the 
blazing  sun,  under  wig  and  helmet  and  lofty  hat! 
The  Arctic  discoverers  had  the  worst  of  it,  in  their 
polar-bear  skin  and  seal  coats ;  but  the  fellows  in 
shining  brass  and  glued  or  wired-on  mustachios 
also  compelled  pity.  Next  day,  behind  the  scenes. 
Prince  Frederick  Henry  of  the  twenty-four  hours 
previous,  now  a  plain  Mynheer  in  every-day  clothes, 
confessed  to  me  how  nearly  he  came  to  suffocation, 
and  how  early  he  went  to  bed,  missing  even  the 
river  illumination  and  fireworks,  —  at  which  so  many 
aliens  took  vile  colds.  I  question  whether  any  water 
fete  was  ever  finer  than  that  seen  on  the  Y  River, 
September  7,  from  8  to  11  P.  M.  Gondolas,  junks, 
galleons,  yachts,  steamers,  every  shape  and  size  of 
boat,  hung  with  lights  numbering  from  one  to  twenty 
thousand,  moved  over  the  water,  while  royalty,  the 
populace,  and  foreign  guests  rapturously  enjoyed  the 
scene. 

The  next  day,  after  her  Majesty  had  inspected 
the  heirlooms  of  her  ancestors  in  the  Orange-Nas- 
sau Exposition,  she  appeared  in  the  magnificent 
Concert  Gebouw.  She  was  dressed  in  figured  white 
satin,  with  pink  flowers  in  her  hat  corresponding 
to  those  wrought  in  her  skirt.     Emma,  "  the  king's 


392  THE  AMERICAN  IN   HOLLAND 

widow,"  was  in  her  favorite  dress  of  lavender  and 
heliotrope  shade,  richly  embroidered  with  light-tinted 
flowers.  Both,  as  usual,  held  bouquets  of  flowers. 
Not  far  away  sat  the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wied. 
On  the  immense  stage,  backed  by  an  organ  which  is 
one  of  the  finest  in  Europe,  and  played  by  a  master, 
sat  seven  hundred  singers  and  players  on  instru- 
ments. The  cantata  in  praise  of  the  queen,  the 
touching  soprano  solos  by  Mrs.  Reddingius,  the  sub- 
lime Twenty-third  Psalm  by  half  a  hundred  virgins 
in  white,  the  songs  by  Holland's  ablest  tenor,  and 
the  Hallelujah  chorus,  were  rendered  with  rare  spirit 
and  excellence  of  technique. 

In  a  round  of  pleasurable  functions,  now  like  a 
crown  of  brilliants  in  memory,  Wilhelmina's  presence 
and  speech  at  the  inauguration  gleams  first;  but 
next,  in  personal  enjoyment,  was  my  sight  of  the 
queen  at  the  dramatic  representation  of  "  Oranje  in 
Nederland,"  on  Thursday  evening.  Certainly,  in 
evening  dress,  amid  the  flashing  lights,  she  could  not 
look  more  handsome,  and  every  movement  seemed 
grace  itself.  In  the  audience  sat  the  Javanese 
princes,  members  of  the  cabinet,  the  royal  governors 
of  the  provinces,  the  great  burgomasters,  and  most 
of  the  leading  men  of  the  government,  with  their 
wives  and  daughters.  The  hour's  tableaux  and  dia- 
logues showed  the  scene  of  July  9,  1672,  when  it 
seemed  as  if,  before  the  dangers  from  the  invading 
hosts  of  the  French  and  Louis  XIV.,  and  the  quar- 
rels of  Tromp  and  De  Ruj^ter,  Holland  was  to  be 
crushed  out  of  existence  through  disaster  and  the 
House  of  Orange  come  to  desinence.     William  III., 


THE  ROYAL   INAUGURATION  393 

bis  gayly  attired  admirals,  the  regents  of  Holland's 
grandest  city,  the  Scheveningen  "  fish-vrouw,"  Hol- 
land's "matroos"  (sailor),  and  the  village  folk  were 
all  finely  represented  with  spirit  and  art.  The  acting 
was  superb.  While  in  his  grief  and  dejection,  the 
genius  of  the  House  of  Orange,  a  white-robed  woman 
on  the  seashore,  consoles  the  stadholder,  and  pro- 
phesies that  he  will  wear  the  crown  of  England,  and 
that,  despite  storm  and  stress,  both  Holland  and  the 
House  of  Orange  will  live  on  in  glory  through  the 
ages.  Then,  after  strikiug  mechanical  effects,  and 
the  soft,  sweet  music  of  the  "  Wilhelmus  Lied,"  there 
bursts  into  glowing  light  a  panorama  of  history  and 
a  gallery  of  Orange  leaders,  with  the  portrait-figure 
of  Wilhelmina.  At  this  all  rose  with  the  cry,  "  Leve 
de  Koningin !  "  Amid  the  storm  of  homage  the 
Queen,  in  robes  of  white,  stood  for  a  minute  or  two, 
and  then,  bowing  with  smiles,  made  exit. 

The  pageant  and  festivities  were  now  transferred 
to  the  Hague,  and  among  other  features  was  a  solemn 
religious  service  in  the  Great  Church,  in  which  Wil- 
helmina had  been  baptized,  and  where,  in  centuries 
gone  (despite  the  very  ornamental  modern  iron  spire, 
like  fashion's  notion  of  yesterday  on  a  centenarian's 
head),  William  I.,  Maurice,  Frederick  Henry,  and 
her  other  ancestors,  all  Williams,  worshiped.  Illu- 
mination by  night  and  all  sorts  of  festivities  by  day 
ran  into  next  week.  In  spite  of  the  assassination 
of  the  Empress  of  Austria,  the  brave  young  queen 
curtailed  nothing  in  the  programme,  on  which  the 
people  had  set  their  hearts. 

It  was  a  crowded  fortnight  for  the  American  in 


394  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

Holland.  In  Amsterdam  there  were  numerous  re- 
ceptions, one  by  the  burgomaster,  another  by  the 
United  States  consul,  at  which  I  met  my  own  coun- 
try folk  besides  American  ladies  who  had  married 
Dutch  husbands.  The  dinner  given  by  the  city 
of  Amsterdam  was  a  gorgeous  affair.  Nor  was  there 
any  irony  in  our  eating  it  in  the  hall  of  the  Zoologi- 
cal Garden.  I  am  sure,  however,  that  the  animals 
were  well  fed.  There  were  excursions  to  the  island 
of  Marken  and  to  the  polders,  with  a  dinner  at  Edam, 
the  capital  of  cheese-land. 

On  Sunday,  September  11,  in  the  English  church 
in  the  Begijn  Hof,  where,  since  Amsterdam  declared 
for  the  Keformation,  speakers  of  our  tongue,  includ- 
ing not  a  few  of  the  founders  of  New  England,  have 
worshiped,  a  commemorative  service  was  held.  One 
of  the  addresses,  by  the  writer,  was  upon  Divine  Pro- 
vidence in  the  history  of  the  Netherlands  and  the 
United  States,  and  the  relations  between  the  Dutch 
and  American  peoples. 

When  the  royalties  and  gayeties  left  Amsterdam 
for  the  Hague,  I  also  transferred  myself  thither,  and 
Monday  was  a  red-letter  day.  Twelve  thousand 
children,  dressed  mostly  in  white  and  orange,  were 
gathered  in  the  Koekamp  for  play  and  refreshments, 
and  to  do  honor  to  the  queen.  It  was  fun  to  go 
back  to  childhood  by  joining  in  with  the  youthful 
throng,  and  chatting  with  the  teachers.  So  down 
from  my  numbered  and  reserved  seat  on  the  trib- 
une, past  the  military,  the  police,  the  "  eerwacht," 
or  honor-guard  of  Holland's  gilded  youth,  I  went, 
and  with  two   London   journalists   saw  and  heard 


THE  ROYAL  INAUGURATION  396 

the  royal  and  laughing  maiden  and  mother,  the  two 
queens,  during  two  sunny  hours.  Then  we  hied  to 
the  house  of  Mesdag,  the  painter,  seeing  him  and 
his  wife,  his  marine  models,  and  his  marvelous 
collection  of  modern  pictures.  I  wound  up  the 
day  with  a  lovely  tea  in  East  India  Street  at  the 
quarters  of  my  old  friends,  —  a  husband  and  wife 
on  a  silver  wedding  tour  in  Holland,  with  whom 
golden  memories  of  days  in  the  Raritan  valley  were 
shared  as  we  drank  fragrant  tea.  Then  after  a  re- 
ception at  the  home  of  a  cabinet  minister  who  had 
gathered  a  host  of  brilliant  men  and  women  and 
won  a  serenade  from  the  military  band,  I  left  the 
Hague  and  its  happy  crowds.  These  in  their  joy  over- 
flowed the  boundaries  between  midnight  and  morn- 
ing. At  Rotterdam,  where  I  came  to  be  near  my 
home-going  ship,  the  sight  of  the  mimic  firmament 
of  lights  in  the  harbor  was  glorious. 

A  banquet  in  the  Kursaal  at  Scheveningen,  which 
gathered  most  of  the  artists,  men  of  letters,  and 
other  intellectual  dignitaries  of  the  kingdom,  was 
enjoyed  on  the  evening  of  September  13.  My  seat 
was  next  to  the  secretary  of  the  Royal  Institute 
of  Engineers,  who  told  me  much  of  Java  and  life 
there.  After  this  we  adjourned  to  the  beach,  where 
since  the  awful  storm  of  1895,  which  nearly  swept 
away  the  dikes  and  thus  would  have  flooded  the 
land,  a  magnificent  new  embankment  and  esplanade 
had  been  built,  apparently  able  to  defy  the  whole 
combined  power  of  ocean  and  tempest.  But  Dutch- 
men do  not  boast,  they  patiently  work  and  wait.  My 
seat  was  alongside  of  the  Japanese  minister,  Aka- 


396  THE  AMERICAN  IN  HOLLAND 

bane,  and  we  could  see  easily  and  once  again  the  win- 
some face  of  the  royal  maiden  as  she  moved  along 
the  promenade  to  her  pavilion  to  enjoy  the  fire- 
works. 

This  closed  the  programme  of  the  Kroningsfeest 
for  the  American  in  Holland,  for  Home,  Sweet 
Home  was  now  in  thought  and  view.  I  gave  up  see- 
ing the  naval  review,  the  banquet  proffered  by  the 
city  of  Eotterdam,  and  other  delights  on  the  fringe 
of  the  national  honeymoon.  Then,  by  way  of  cool- 
ing off  from  the  frenzy  of  being  an  "  Oranje 
Klant "  with  the  "  Orange  fever,"  I  made,  on  my 
penultimate  day  in  HoUand,  a  trip  to  Zeist,  to  call 
once  more  indeed  in  the  palace,  but  to  visit  also  the 
site  of  "  de  Koppel,"  and  the  cemetery  where  sleep 
the  parents  of  Verbeck  of  Japan.  The  next  day, 
after  a  glorious  morning  view  of  the  superb  harbor 
of  Rotterdam,  I  found  on  board  the  N.  A.  S.  M. 
steamer  of  the  same  name,  bound  for  Sandy  Hook,  a 
genial  company  of  fellow  Americans  (who  had  been) 
in  Holland. 

The  music  of  the  "  Wilhelmus  Lied,"  in  its  older 
melodious  form,  lingered  as  I  crossed  the  Atlantic, 
—  delightful  days  all,  until  the  last  one,  when  news 
came  of  the  waning  of  the  star  Lyra.    JRequiescat. 

"  Klein  maar  Dapper  "  was  the  motto  of  a  band 
of  boys  whom  I  saw  parading  on  the  Dam  square. 
Such  is  Holland,  —  little  but  brave.  Certainly  God 
has  used  this  small  nation  to  accomplish  great  pur- 
poses. May  the  future  of  "  Neerlandia  "  be  even 
greater  than  her  past ! 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Adams,  John,  341. 
Agneta  Park,  199. 
Agneteberg,  164,  165. 
Alkmaar,  49. 
AUston,  Washington,  39. 
Americ^,n  artists,  39,  193-199. 
Americans  and  Dutch,  74,  347. 
Ames,  Dr.  William  (Amesius),  85, 

92. 
Amsterdam,   15,   18,  20,  21,  369, 

377. 
Anabaptists,  273-275. 
Angles,  182. 
Anglo-Saxons,  84. 
Apeldoorn,  209. 
Archives,  110-113,  165. 
Arminius.  329. 
Arms  of  Dutch  towns,  30,  45,  95, 

116,  136,  155,  206,  329. 
Arnhem,  3,  181,  188. 
Art,  Dutch,  18,  24-26,  38,  39,  382. 
Assen,  125,  126,  131-134,  138. 
Atcheen  war,  the,  183. 

Bameveld,  the  town,  181. 

Beaver,  the,  44,  45. 

Bees,  65,  198. 

Beggars,  the  (Brederode),  42. 

Beguin  Hof,  375,  394,  395. 

Bekker,  Balthazar,  76,  77. 

Belgium,  258,  259. 

Bells,  19. 

Bergen-op-Zoom,  240-242. 

Betuwe,  192,  229. 

Beverwijk,  44-48,  369. 

Bishop  of  Munster,  119, 151,  156- 

161,  174. 
Bloemendaal,  40-48. 
Blok,  Professor  P.  J.,  78,  359. 
Boerhave,  361. 
Boisot,  356,  357. 
Boissevain,  Charles,  374. 
Boniface,  Pope,  54,  93-97,  103. 
Bosch,  100. 
Boston,  139. 

Boughton,  G.  H.,  75,  317. 
Bourtange  morass,  107,  139. 


Brabant.  237,  238. 

Breukelen,  222-224. 

Brethren  of  the  Common  Life* 

109, 173, 176. 
Brink,  134,  135,  171. 
British  army,  190. 
Bronbeek,  183. 
Brownists,  274. 
"Bums,"  52,  84. 

Calvinism,  336. 

Camps,  161. 

Camperdown,  161. 

Canals,  143,  149, 162. 

Caps,  151. 

Castles,  41-44. 

Castricum,  161. 

Cemeteries,  163. 

Chained  books,  191. 

Charlemagne,  64,  137. 

Cheese,  10,  59. 

Chevaux  de  Frise,  119. 

Chicory,  97,  126. 

Christian  Reformed  Church,  159. 

Circle  of  Netherland  Journalists, 

370,  371. 
Classis  of  Amsterdam,  20,  375. 
Clay  and  sand,  145. 
Cloisters,  113. 
Closet-beds,  81,  82. 
Coccejus,  88. 

Coehorn,  Menno  van,  151, 182. 
Coevorden,  143-157. 
Colors,  59. 

Congregationalists,  13,  297. 
Consistory,  46. 
Corlear,  7,  8. 
Coronation,  377,  378. 
Corwin,  Dr.  E.  T.,  7,  375. 
Coster,  Laurens  Janszoon,  30,  34. 
Costume-processions,  217-221, 358. 
Counts  of  Holland,  51. 
Cows,  185. 
Crefeld,  263. 

Dakota,  132. 
Daleu,  145. 


400 


INDEX 


Dam,  the,  23,  60,  369,  383,  384. 

Damietta,  37. 

Dams,  6. 

Delaware,  78. 

Delfshaven,  13,  27,  313. 

Delft,  64,  331-339. 

Delft  ware,  18,  79,  80,  331-333. 

Delfzijl,  117. 

De  Ruyter,  Admiral,  53,  279, 284. 

Deventer,  84,  155,  168-174,  176. 

Dikes,  17,  80,  97,  126. 

District  of  Columbia,  344. 

Doelen,  24,  341. 

Dogs,  35,  55,  56. 

Dokkum,  54,  76,  89,  93. 

Domine,  65,  164. 

Dordrecht,  306. 

Drainage,  31,  108. 

Drenthe,  107,  125,  136,  144,  149, 

199. 
Dronrijp,  86. 
Drusus,  118. 
Dry  storms,  193. 
Dunes,  40. 

Dutch  America,  6-8. 
Dutch  and  American  republics, 

75,  149,  347. 
Dutch  and  German,  3,  7. 
Dutch  East  Indies,  183. 
Dutch  inventions,  61. 
Dutch  language,  276. 
Dutchmen,  195. 
Dynasties,  319. 

Easter  HiU,  206. 

Egmont-land,  49-57. 

Eisinga,  Eise,  87. 

Emma,  Queen,  15,  336,  337. 

Emmerich,  3. 

Emmers,  Jacob,  74. 

Emmius,  Ubbo,  109,  110. 

Empress  of  Insulinde,  388. 

Engeland,  72. 

English  and  Dutch,  157. 

English  in  Holland,  185,  186, 190. 

Enschede,  155. 

Erasmus,  77,  109, 313-315. 

Feudalism,  44. 

Finsterwolde,  116. 

Fireplaces,  63, 166. 

Flag,  172,  375. 

Flevo,  Lake,  79. 

Flushing,  54,  278-287. 

Forks,  118. 

Forts,  139. 

Franeker,  74,  85-89. 

French  Revolution,  113, 119,  130. 


Friesish,  84,  102. 
Friesland,  93-100, 102. 
Frisian  helmet,  73. 
Frisian  women,  72. 

Gelderland,  201-211. 

Germans  and  Dutch,  3,  7, 324, 367. 

Giants'  graves,  126-133. 

Gin,  152. 

Glass,  stained,  325. 

Goes,  288-299. 

Gouda,  322-326. 

Grachts,  96. 

Groningen,  107-121. 

Groot,   Hugo  de   (Grotius),   335, 

336,  339. 
Groote,  Gerhardus,  109,  175. 
Guilds,  113. 
Gutenberg,  324. 
Gypsies,  84. 

Haarlem,  30-39. 

Hague,  340-349. 

Hals,  Frans,  30,  38. 

Harada,  Rev.  T.,  14,  16, 19,  22. 

Harderwijk,  87. 

Harlem,  N.  Y.,  33. 

HarUngen,  83,  84. 

Hawthorne,  Nathaniel,  120. 

Head-dresses,  297. 

Heathen,  131. 

Heaths,  126-131,  144. 

Heeren  Gracht,  27. 

Heerenveen,  89. 

Heilo,  54. 

Heraldry,  145.    See  Arms. 

Het  Loo,  209-211. 

Hildebrand,  189. 

Hillegom,  43. 

Hindeloopen,  74,  77. 

Hofdijk,  43,  50,  130. 

Holland,  rivers  of,  5. 

Holland  and  Japan,  17-20. 

Holland's  name,  309. 

Hondecoeter,  Melchior,  27. 

Honig  family,  64. 

Honey  cakes,  84. 

Hoogzand,  108. 

Hoogeveen,  125,  131, 138-140, 153. 

Hooks,  10. 

House  of  Orange,  320,  379,  380. 

Huet,  Busken,  76. 

Huguenots,  360. 

Huis  te  Britten,  161. 

Ijssel  River,  155. 
Inauguration  of   Queen  Wilhel- 
mina,  386-393. 


INDEX 


401 


Insulinde,  388. 

Ireland,  55. 

Irving,  Washington,  7,  141. 

Islands,  112. 

Israels,  Josef,  82. 

Ithaca,  "  Forest  City,"  134. 

Jacqueline  of  Bavaria,  289. 
Japan,  26,   31,  56,  62,  129,  171, 

183. 
Japan  and    Holland,    17-21,  26, 

131-133. 
Javanese  servants,  183. 
Jews,  67. 

Jonckbloet,  W.  J.  A.,  110. 
"  Joyous  Entrance,"  234,  377-385. 

Kamperduin,  161. 

Kampen,  155-162. 

Kelts,  128. 

Kennemer  land,  48,  49,  58. 

Kermis,  84. 

Kern,  359. 

King  William  III.,  10. 

Knickerbocker,  Diedrich,  75. 

Klap,  114. 

Klarenbeek,  182. 

Klomps,  196. 

Koekjes,  178. 

Kuenen,  Dr.  A.,  22. 

Kuyper,  Dr.  A.,  22,  371. 

Landfall,  17. 

Laidlie,  Rev.  Archibald,  279-281. 

Law  of  the  road,  56. 

Leeuwarden,  71-77. 

Leeuwenhoeck,  338,  339. 

Leicester,  278. 

Leyden,  24,  350-361. 

Limburg,  247-255. 

Linnaeus,  204. 

Literature,  18. 

Lode wijk  van  Nassau,  251. 

Luther,  Martin,  109. 

Luzac,  368. 

Maas  River,  248. 
Maastricht,  256-258. 
Maerlant,  109. 
Malays,  183,  184,  388. 
Manhattan  Island,  27&-281. 
Maurice,  Prince,  108-110, 147-157, 

174,  181. 
May,  Cape,  78. 
Mayflower,  334. 
Medemblik,  73. 
Meerdervoort,    Dr.    Pompe  van, 

243. 


Megapolensis,  Domine,  53. 

Mennonites,  65,  86, 114. 

Meppel,  125,  151. 

Mesdag,  83. 

Middelburg,  271-277. 

Mohawk    valley,     47,    53,    101, 

138. 
Monks,  51. 

Mookerheide,  249-251. 
Motley,  John  Lothrop,  9,  10. 
Mountains,  208. 
Muller  &  Co.,  187. 
Museums,  61,  79,  100,  114,  130. 
Music,  392. 

Naarden,  162. 

Names,  English  and  Scottish  186 ; 

36,  345,  346. 
Napoleon,  87,  161. 
New  Amsterdam,  45,  149,  150. 
New  Brunswick,  N.  J.,  6,  6. 
New  Dordrecht,  150. 
New  Netherland,  33,  45,  149. 
Nieuwe  Kerk,  383,  387,  390. 
Night  Watch,  The,  23. 
Norsemen,  127. 
North  Brabant,  233-244. 
North  Holland  Canal,  15. 
North  Sea  Canal,  15. 
Noses,  205. 
Nunspeet,  193, 199. 

Over-Ijssel,  156, 181. 

Palace  at  Amsterdam,  21, 

Parma,  173,  190. 

Pastoor,  164,  165. 

Patria,  9,  57,  65. 

Paulowna,  Anna,  386. 

Penn,  William,  9,  66,  176. 

Pennsylvania,  66,  185. 

Peter  the  Great,  58,  66. 

Philip  IL,  313. 

Pilgrims,  13,  14,  22,  54,  66,   77, 

90,  162,  317,  354. 
Polke,  Charles  Peale,  187,  243. 
Printing,  30,  34,  323-325. 
Proverbs,  29,  66,  76. 
Prussia,  3. 
Pulpits,  47. 
Puritans,  47,  160. 
Putnam,  Ruth,  337. 

Quandril,  3,  10. 
Queen  Emma,  15,  336,  337. 
Queen  Sophia,  10. 
Queen  Wilhelmina,  15,  133,  377- 
393. 


402 


INDEX 


Radbod,  118. 

Rembrandt,  24,  25,  115,  382. 

Rheinberg,  190. 

Rhenen,  225-229. 

Rhine,  the,  3-5,  185,  308. 

Rifle,  277. 

Rijks  Museum,  23-25. 

Rivers  of  Holland,  5. 

Roermond,  260-264. 

Rolde,  127,  133,  136. 

Rotterdam,  9,  10,  85,  311-321. 

Russia,  &). 

Rutgers  College,  5,  83. 

Sabot,  196. 

Salvation  Army,  120. 

Saskia,  25,  26. 

Seandal-post,  120. 

Schaepraan,  Dr.,  262. 

Schenck,  Martin,  181. 

Schenectady,  14,  46,  65,  98,  140. 

Scherpenzeel,  75. 

Schir-meer,  49. 

Schools,  62,  173. 

Scheldt  River,  286. 

Schultens,  88. 

Scilly,  103. 

Scotland,  185. 

Scottish  names,  36,  114,  345,  346. 

Scriptorium,  190. 

Selyns,  Domine,  53. 

Sidney,  Sir  Philip,  186,  188. 

Simons,  Menno,  60,  67. 

Smokers,  205. 

Sneek,  85-90. 

Sophia,  Queen,  10. 

South  Holland,  303-310. 

Spaarn,  30,  31,  34. 

Spain,  149. 

Spaniards,  157. 

Spinoza,  ;>48,  349. 

Starter,  Jan,  86. 

Steen,  Jan,  65,  160,  185. 

Steenen  tafel,  184. 

Steenwijk,  155-157. 

Storks,  78. 

Street  names,  36,  345,  346. 

Stuart,  Rev.  Cohen,  199. 

Stuyvesant,  Petrus,  76. 

Sutphen,  188. 

Taan,  Claas,  187. 

Tadema,  Alma,  86. 

Takahashi,  Professor,  375. 

Taxes  293. 

Ten  B'rTnk,  Jan,  86,  131,  359,  360. 

Terpen,  73,  79,  97-99,  138. 

Texel,  74,  79,  112. 


Thomas  k  Kempis,  160, 163. 
Tobacco,  64,  119,  165. 
Toekomst,  199. 
Town,  9f). 
Town  haU,  160. 
Transvaal,  150. 
Trek-schuit,  60. 
Tri-color,  184. 
Tulips,  18,  31-32. 
Turf,  35,  138,  149,  243. 
"  Turn  to  the  right,"  56. 

Universities,  204. 
Utrecht,  111. 
Utrecht,  Bishop  of,  62. 
Utrecht,  city,  209-221. 

Valckenaer,  88. 

Van  Curler,  Anthony,  75. 

Van  Curler,  Arendt,  76. 

Van  der  Capellen,  Baron,  74. 

Van  Lennep,  Jacob,  28,  43,  50. 

Van  Scheltema,  Mr.,  187. 

Van  Speyk,  53. 

Van  Voorsts,  192. 

Vecht,  the,  145,  146. 

Veenwoude,  93-98. 

Veluwe,  192. 

Venema,  88. 

Venice,  15,  19,  60. 

Venlo,  253. 

Verbeck  of  Japan,  396. 

Vianen,  43. 

Vijver,  184,  340. 

Vii^nia,  57. 

Vitringa,  portrait  of,  88. 

Voet,  Dr.,  76. 

Vondel,  Joost  van  der,  170. 

Vries,  Peter  de,  187. 

Vrouwensand,  89. 

Walcheren,  273. 

Waring,  George  E.,  31. 

Warns  veld,  192. 

Washington,  George,  186. 

Waterland,  65. 

Water  State,  80. 

Weather,  92. 

Well,  96. 

Whales,  62. 

Wijk,  257. 

Wijk  aan  Zee,  52. 

Wijk  bei  Duurstede,  4. 

Wilbrord,  St.,  54. 

Wilfrid,  St.,  54,  103. 

Wilhebnina,  Queen,  15,  133,  377- 

385. 
"  Wilhelmus  Lied,"  387. 


William  the  Silent,  236, 
WiUiam  III.,  10. 
Winsehoten,  108,  116. 
Wind,  62,  193. 
Windmills,  61,  143. 
Woerden,  328. 
Woman's  work,  207. 
Wood  carving,  81,  115. 

Y  River.  19. 


INDEX 

337,380.    Yonkers,  N.  Y.,  7. 

Zaandam,  58,  65. 
Zaandijk,  58-67. 
Zaandport,  42. 
Zaan  Land,  58,  65. 
Zeist,  293. 

Zutphen,  168-173,  188. 
Zuyder  Zee,  74,  79. 
Zwolle,  155, 163-167. 


403 


KLECTROTYPED  AND  PRINTED 
BY  H.  O,   HOUGHTON  AND  CO. 

CAMBRIDGE,  MASS.,  U.  S.  A. 


M813328 


